The Life That Could Have Been
by SirEvy
Summary: AU where Peter never betrayed his friends, Voldemort's destroyed for good, and the Potters are given a chance of actually being a family.
1. Prologue

_**A/N:**_ _Just something that came to me while I was trying to type up my Psychology paper. It will be a series of one-shots, at least I think, but you never know. I'd love to hear any suggestions you guys have, so please R&R! Anywho, this story is completely AU and I don't think I have seen it done before, perhaps it has. I'm not a big advocate of Peter-I never really did like him-but I just had to. Please don't hate me._

**_Disclaimer: _**_If I had a penny for every time I wished I owned the rights to Harry Potter, I would have a billion pennies, but still no HP._

* * *

**Prologue**

"We have been waiting for you."

The short, stubby man with already greying blond hair jumps about a foot in the air. He can hear his heart thumping wildly in his ears and he closes his eyes, hoping against hope that he has imagined the cold voice. They are in a middle of a war, after all, and they've all been driven a bit mad. He turns around slowly his wand gripped tightly in his hand.

He sees a group of masked figures in his sitting room, all with their wands pointed to his chest and he knows that he can never be a match against so many of them. His eyes fall to the pale man with distorted, waxy features who had spoken, whose eyes are snake-like and red and incredibly inhuman.

"Sit," he commands. "We have matters to discuss."

But the man remains standing in defiance, his Gryffindor courage pulsing through his veins; it might be faint, but it is still there.

The man laughs a cold, humourless laugh. "Defiant, I see. You may not be a Pureblood, Peter Pettigrew, but you are brave. Lord Voldemort appreciates bravery. Perhaps you are not as useless as you look." He circles the man named Peter and he wills himself to remain strong, despite his trembling in fear. "Perhaps you would make a perfect Death Eater, once the issue of blood was resolved, of course."

"I will never join the likes of you!" he cries, a bravery he never knew he possessed taking over.

"No?" the man asks, his lips curling into a cold smile. "You are being offered a rank in one of the most powerful armies the Wizarding World has known. I suggest you do not take my offer lightly."

"You're a pathetic excuse for a human being. And I will never join you or your bloody army," Peter hisses, his wand gripped tighter in his hand. He knew it was no use to him now, but it gave him a small comfort, knowing that it was there.

"Pity," Voldemort says as he steps back, pointing his wand at Peter. "Crucio!"

Peter falls to the ground and agonizing screams fill the air; it takes him a minute to realise the screams are coming from him. Over and over he feels as if a thousand white-knives pierce through his skin and his head feels as it is about to explode under the pain. As soon as it started it stops and Peter lies in the ground, whimpering in pain.

"Now, where are the Potters?" Peter says nothing and Voldemort sighs. "Perhaps he needs more encouraging."

_(Crucio, _Voldemort repeats incessantly, almost sound like an eerie chant. _"Do you really think you can resist, Pettigrew?"_

_I should hope so._

"_You are a pathetic excuse for a wizard. You shall talk."_

_Perhaps I am, but no more than you._

"_If you do not talk, I shall kill you!_

_Go right ahead. I will never tell you.)_

They go on like that for hours, it seems—he's lost track of time. The searing pain is too much for him to bear and he feels himself loosing grip of reality, sinking deeper and deeper into insanity. But he doesn't talk, doesn't waver, because Peter Pettigrew might have been a great many things: weak, pathetic, and stupid, but there was something he wasn't. And that was a coward.

* * *

In another part of London, a meeting ensues.

"Brother."

The word is soft as it leaves the man's lips and the older man in front of him spins around, bewilderment adorning his tired, handsome face. From first glance, no one would ever confuse the two men as brothers; while one is tall and strikingly handsome, the other is shorter, less attractive. The similarities between the two become more pronounced the closer you look; same mischievous grey eyes that have lost their twinkle; the same haughty smirk, although it is more of a ghost now, for both men seem increasingly tired. The war has certainly taken its toll on them.

One eyes the other warily, his wand at ready to protect himself, while the other seems to have a defeated air around him as he tosses the wand to the other man's feet.

"I did not come here to hurt you, brother."

"One can never be too sure, brother," the man says as he lowers his wand, although he keeps it gripped tightly in his hand. "How do I know Voldemort hasn't sent you?"

The man flinches at the mention of the name, almost imperceptibly, he hopes, but the other man notices and raises an eyebrow.

"Does it make you uncomfortable to hear your Master's name?" the older man asks, almost mockingly.

The man sighs. "I know of a way to bring the Dark Lord down, once and for all."

This catches him off-guard and a silence ensues, during which the older man desperately tries to process what his brother has said. They have tried everything, but nothing has proved to be futile in their efforts to bring the Dark Lord down. The Dark is winning, taking over their world and the Light can only withhold the Dark Lord from taking over Europe so long. He can already feel their defences crumbling as people lose hope. _Why keep fighting?_ _The Dark has won, _they say.

Can it be that, after almost a decade of war, there is a way to bring peace to the Wizarding World? He can feel a glimmer of hope shining through his doubts as he regards his brother, but he wills himself to ignore it. He's never been much of an optimist.

"Why should I trust you?" the man finally asks.

"You mistrust me," the younger man says, almost reproachful.

"Do you blame me?"

"Do not judge me, brother. You do not understand. You have always been braver, stronger than I. You were able to free yourself of Mother's grasp. I never could. I was always too weak." The man sighs a great weary sigh as he regards his brother. "Not anymore. I do not want this life anymore. Please. Let me help."

The older man looks into his brother's eyes, searching him. A spark of hope flashes through his eyes.

"Why are you willing to help?" he asks.

"Because I know things, things the Dark Lord has done. I want no part of it."

"What will happen to you?"

"I know what helping entails for me, Sirius. I am perfectly aware of the consequences of my actions tonight. I know what the Dark Lord will do to me when he learns of my treason. And I am not afraid, Sirius. I do not fear death; I welcome it."

The spark dies. "You cannot possibly expect me to allow my brother to die! If accepting your help means your demise, I reject it. I do not want it."

"Please, Sirius. Let me help."

There is something in his voice, something desperate, almost suppliant, that makes the man named Sirius fall silent. They stare at each other, both in defiance as they will the other to back down. Finally, Sirius does, heaving a great, bone-weary sigh.

"How?"

The man holds up a gold locket, as if it should be clear to him what it represents.

"A locket? That is how we kill Voldemort? With a _locket_?"

The unmistakable ghost of a grin flashes through the younger man's face.

"It is not just any locket, brother." His expression turns sombre once more. "A Horcrux."

A look of horror and disbelief passes through the older man's face as he regards the golden locket. "He couldn't possibly have," he whispers, almost to himself.

"I'm afraid he has," the younger man responds. He passes the locket to his brother, which he takes unwillingly from his outstretched hands. "Can you feel it?"

Sirius frowns, not really sure what he should be feeling. And then he does. It's almost as if the thing has a heartbeat, for it pulses almost undetectably in his hand, sending shivers of fear down his spine.

"Does he have more?" Sirius asks as he stares at the locket in his hand, almost transfixed.

The man hesitates, before nodding his head slowly.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course there are more, Sirius. This is the Dark Lord we speak of."

"How many more?"

"It is but a guess, brother. I cannot know for sure."

"How many?" Sirius asks again, his voice somewhat forceful.

"Five, I believe. The locket, a cup, a diary, a diadem, and a ring."

* * *

The old wizard with long white hair and matching beard sits in his study, lost in thought as he stares of into space, the same words replaying over and over in his head.

"_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month die."_

Surely it cannot mean the child of Lily and James Potter? Surely Voldemort cannot possibly think that a child poses a threat to him? he asks himself over and over again.

A man topples out of the fireplace to his right, startling the old wizard out of his thoughts. He looks up to see a shaggy-haired man, who, albeit tired, seems excited.

"Sirius, to what do I owe this visit?" the aging wizard asks, motioning the man to take a seat, which he does.

"I know, Headmaster. I know of a way to bring Voldemort down once and for all."

The Headmaster sits hastily up in his seat, a hint of hope sparking in his piercing blue eyes as he stares Sirius in the eye. Finally, he speaks.

"Horcruxes," he whispers to himself. "I should have known." He pauses, a thoughtful look in his face. "Do you have it?" he asks, turning again to Sirius.

"I do."

Sirius lays the locket onto the Headmaster's desk when the fireplace burns green once more. A man topples out of it again, wearing blue robes, a shiny Aurors badge fastened to it.

"I bring grave news, Headmaster."

"What is it, Moody?"

"Pettigrew is dead."

* * *

Four of them sit in the round table that seats five: the man with untidy hair and square glasses perched atop his crooked nose; the woman with fiery curls and vibrant green eyes; the shaggy-haired man, covered in soot and looking almost as if he has gone through hell and back—which perhaps he has; the woman with straight raven hair and blue eyes, whose head is resting on the shaggy-haired man's shoulder and the shabby man with faint scars, who seems older and more tired than the rest, even if they are the same age. Their eyes are hollow and their faces blank as they stare off into space, the unmistakable trail of tears glistening in the dim light.

Upstairs, a small child sleeps peacefully, oblivious to the sufferings of the people downstairs.

They do not speak, they do not move almost giving the sense that they are frozen in time. The locket has been snapped in half, the ring has been crushed, the goblet has been melted, the diadem has been destroyed and a diary has been pierced through the middle.

A cheerful voice speaks in the background and they can barely make out what it is saying.

_The Dark Lord has gone. The Dark Lord is dead. He has gone never to return again. Let us rejoice for this happy, happy day._

It feels so out of place, because even if they _should_ be celebrating, and they _should_ be happy because they wanted the war to end, they never wanted it to end like _this_.

Not with one of them dead. It wasn't supposed to happen that way.

Finally, one of them speaks, startling them all.

"To Peter."

The shabby haired man raises his goblet and his friends follow his example as they raise their goblets in the air.

"To Peter," they repeat and drink. "To Peter, the bravest one of us all."

_And to Regulus,_ Sirius whispers to himself, _the bravest man I have ever known_.

* * *

_**A/N:** As I said, I'm considering leaving this as a series of one-shots, but I also have an idea to make it into an actual story, involving the return of our favorite female villain: Bellatrix. Well at least mine anyway. Or a simple story, showing how different Harry's life would have been. But I'm still not sure what to do? Any thoughts guys? Your input would be greatly appreciated! :)_


	2. Not Quite Over

**A/N: **_First, a big thank you to my first three reviewers:_** aggies2015, Magic and the Marauders and Ondo Maximum. **_Siriusly, thank you . _

_Anywho, I've decided to continue on with this as a story and not just a series of one-shots, because as aggies2015 said, it's just too much to leave it as a bunch of one-shots. I hope you all like what I have in store for this story and hopefully it's not so cliche. __I'm still debating whether or not to make Bellatrix the villain but that's another issue. __Just one quick question: any ideas for a love interest for Harry? Should I stick with Ginny? I've been thinking about Daphne Greengrass because, for some reason, I like the idea of them being together. Any other ideas guys?_

_Oh, and before I forget, just in case anyone's interested, updates won't be coming too soon for this story. I'm already working on another two stories as it is and they're my top priority right now. This update was quick, but only because this chapter was really easy to write. BUT, if you'd like updates to be quicker, leaving a review might make me write faster._

_Yeah, totally did just bribe you guys ;)_

**Disclaimer**_: If I owned Harry Potter, I'd probably be lounging around in my private island, not stuck in a house with a broken AC :p_

* * *

**Chapter 1: Not Quite Over **

_Voldemort's dead._

Those two simple words had brought an enormous amount of happiness and relief to the young woman with the crimson curls. She had allowed herself, for the first time in almost a year, to finally let her guard down as she felt tears of happiness trickle down her cheek.

And perhaps it was wrong to be glad over somebody's death, but Voldemort was dead and her son was safe. Harry was safe and that was all that mattered.

_How? _she remembered herself asking. She wanted to know exactly what had brought upon the demise of the man who had caused so much death and destruction.

Sirius had obliged, telling her about the Horcruxes, all five of them.

He vaguely told her of coming across the locket, before going to Dumbledore. It astounded her, how fast the three men—Sirius, Dumbledore and Alastor Moody, whom they had included in their quest after a second's hesitation—had worked.

Dumbledore had provided them insight into the mind of Voldemort. It seemed that those months Dumbledore had spent obsessing over Voldemort's past, or Tom Riddle as he had once been known, since learning of the Prophecy had really paid off.

They had found the ring first, hidden amongst the debris of an old home—Riddle's old family home to be exact. The diadem had been next, which Sirius had recalled seeing in the Room of Hidden Things during one of his expeditions of the school. Moody had helped with the diary, recalling one like it during one of his raids at the Malfoy Manor.

The goblet had been harder to come across, but Dumbledore, knowing Riddle all too well had suggested that perhaps it was hidden where Riddle himself thought made a wizard a _wizard_: Gringotts. It had taken some time, but they had finally deducted that since Malfoy had already been in possession of one of his Horcruxes, the next must have been left in the hands of his most trusted servants: the Lestranges. Dumbledore had collected a debt owed to him by the goblins to acquire this missing Horcrux.

He spoke of how they had destroyed them, one by one until only the soul that resided in Voldemort was left. He didn't speak of Voldemort's death and Lily knew better than to ask.

It didn't matter, anyway. All that mattered was that Voldemort was dead. She was safe. James was safe. And, most importantly, Harry was safe.

She felt elated, so elated in fact that she almost missed the overwhelming sadness lurking behind Sirius' grey eyes.

_What else, happened, Sirius?_ she asked.

He had hesitated, but she insisted, wanting to know. And then, as it so happens in life, her happiness was stubbed by the shaggy-haired man's next words.

_Peter. Peter is dead._

Peter, lovely little Peter whom had said nothing the day she had learned of the Prophecy that had kept her captive for almost a year, just held her in his arms as she wept. He didn't try to comfort her like James had, or cheer her up like Sirius nor did he offer words of advice like Remus had. He had stayed silent, letting her get off her chest what she so desperately needed.

Peter, whom had always lamented himself of being a little more than a Squib, of not being as powerful and as brave as he thought a Gryffindor ought to be. How ironic it was then, that it was the same bravery he didn't know he possessed that allowed her heart to continue beating, pulsing blood through her veins as she picked up her small son, cradling him in her arms.

She had escaped, moments before, to her son's room when they had started discussing Peter's death. She felt it was too much for her to bear, to learn how this brave, brave man had died, allowing them to live. It just felt so wrong.

But a part of her—the selfish part of her—couldn't help but feel relieved.

Because, to think, if it hadn't been for Peter, they could all be dead now. Or worse.

She shook her head, not allowing herself to dwell on the possibility as she looked down at her son. At just one year of age, Harry looked extraordinarily like James, from the mischievous glint in his eyes to his untidy jet-black hair. Except for his eyes. He had _her_ eyes. The same striking shade of green that captivates the heart and pierces the soul.

Or, at least that was what James had told her once.

Harry stirred sleepily in her hands and Lily smiled—the first true smile she had managed ever since they had been forced into hiding. It felt wrong to, with Peter's death hanging over her like a dark cloud, but she couldn't help but feel relieved that her little family had gone through this whole ordeal unscathed.

It had been thanks to Peter's sacrifice that she could now hold her sleeping son in her arms and know that he was safe, for once. And she would be forever grateful to Peter because of it.

* * *

"And what happened to the Longbottoms?" she heard Marlene's soft voice whisper as she re-entered their small sitting room.

They were all seated on the large sofa, a half-full bottle of firewhisky placed on the table before them. The fire was in its last stages, burning dimly, giving the room a gloomy feeling, which suited it just fine because Peter was dead and it just didn't feel right.

She took a seat next to her husband, taking his hand in hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. She could feel James relax as he returned the pressure. She turned to the conversation at hand, with great interest. She had been so overwhelmed when she had learned of Peter's death that she had almost forgotten that Alice, one of her best friends, had also been forced into hiding.

"Dumbledore has suggested they remain in hiding, for now," Sirius responded, looking incredibly tired.

He looked twice his age at the moment; but, then again, they all did. War does that to you, sometimes. Ages you until you are hardly recognisable; just a shell of your former self.

"What happens next?" Lily asked softly, after a minute of silence.

"Next, we round up his followers," Sirius spoke up, heaving a great, weary sigh. "Just because Voldemort is dead doesn't make the Death Eaters less of a threat. If anything, they are most dangerous now. They _will_ want revenge. The Lestrange's especially." He turned to look at them then, looking almost apologetic. "Dumbledore believes that it would be best if you send Harry away, just until this whole thing blows over. He believes that way, Harry would be safer."

Lily could feel her anger rising. How dare Dumbledore suggest such a thing? She knew the Headmaster was only looking out for them, but that was ridiculous! How could her son be safer anywhere else? She was his mother; she would never let anything harm her son.

"No," she said firmly, trying to keep her voice down. "He's staying with us."

"Tell Dumbledore Harry isn't going anywhere," James said through gritted teeth, sounding as angry as she felt. "Our son is going to stay with us and that is final."

"I told him you would never agree. He wanted me to run the idea by you, anyway," Sirius said, managing a small smile. "Then it would be best if you remain in hiding as well, for the time being."

"But that could take weeks, even months," James said in frustration, passing a hand through his already untidy hair. "I don't want to stay here anymore. I want to help. I want to fight."

Lily sighed; she knew exactly how he was feeling. They had been in hiding for almost a year and she could already feel it catching up to her; she could perfectly recall every single crevice in their home if she closed her eyes.

But, if it was for their safety, what was a few more months of hiding? It would pass before they knew it and then, they'd be free again. She turned to her husband and opened her mouth to speak, but she was cut-off.

"Prongs," the shabby man spoke up and James turned to look at him. "I know what you're going through, but—"

"With all respect, Remus," James snapped, interrupting him, "but no, you don't. _You_ weren't forced into hiding because some bloody lunatic was after your family. Voldemort wasn't after your son."

"Yeah, maybe I wasn't forced into hiding, and maybe they aren't my wife and son, but you are my family," Remus said quietly, making James' frustrated expression soften. "Don't think for a minute that I don't know what you've been going through. I already lost my parents and Dorcas. Now Peter. You five are all I have left; I don't want to lose you too."

James hung his head, rubbing a hand across his tired face as he let out a sigh. "I'm sorry, Moony. It's just, I'm tired, you know? I just want this to be over. And I don't want to stay here, doing nothing."

Remus sighed. "We all are, Prongs. But it'll be over soon; the Order is working alongside the Auror Department to capture the remaining Death Eater's as quickly as possible."

"Remus is right, James," Lily said softly. "I'm sure they've got the best people out there, looking for them. It'll be over before we know it and then we'll be able to get on with our lives."

James exhaled loudly, turning to Sirius as he clasped his wife's hand in his. "D'you think we'll be safe here?" He paused, measuring his words. "With our Secret-Keeper gone?" He didn't say it, but the words still hung over them: _With Peter dead._

Sirius hesitated. "I don't see why not; Dumbledore said nothing against , to be on the safe side, you should probably get another Secret-Keeper. I could do it," he offered.

"No, I'll do it," Marlene said calmly, as if she were commenting on the weather or any other menial thing. Four pairs of eyes turned to look at her, but she was only focused on one in particular: the man with the grey eyes. "You said so yourself the first time, Sirius. You'd be the obvious choice and so would Remus. Nobody would suspect me. And it would just be temporarily, until this whole thing blows over."

"You're Lily's best friend," he reminded her, looking at her pleadingly. "Almost like a sister to James. And—I can't let you, Marls." He didn't say it, but it was still there, hanging on the air around them: _I can't lose you too._

"We could go to Dumbledore," Lily suggested quickly, before Marlene could protest. "He offered the last time; I don't see why we couldn't ask him now."

James sighed. "I think Dumbledore has plenty on his plate right now to worry about."

"There always _is_ another option," Remus said, almost to himself as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. He paused, running a hand through his sandy hair as they all turned to him. "Although I'm not sure if it would work."

"Well, spit it out, Moony. We haven't got all day."

He sighed, speaking after a moment's hesitation. "You could always be your own Secret-Keeper."

"Please tell me you're joking," James said, feeling his frustration rising. How easier this whole ordeal would have been, had he known that one year ago. Then maybe Peter could have survived.

"It's just a theory I've been working on, Prongs. I cannot guarantee its effectiveness. After I learned that you two were to take on a Secret-Keeper, I did a bit of research and I haven't found anything that would stop you from being your own Secret-Keeper. There's no previous history about being one's own Secret-Keeper, but it is a really old spell and its effectiveness when using others has never been disputed."

"Why didn't you say anything before?" James demanded, trying to keep his anger under control.

"You never asked," Remus responded calmly. He didn't sound reproachful or angry, just the tiniest bit hurt.

James sighed. How stupid he had been, to ever doubt his friends.

"I'm sorry, Remus. We were just so scared and confused and—"

"You don't have to apologise, James," Remus said with a small smile, cutting James off. "That's all behind us now. The important thing right now is keeping your family safe."

"What are we going to do, James?" Lily asked, turning to look at her husband.

James sighed. "I don't know, Lil. I like Moony's theory, but I want to run it by Dumbledore first, to make sure. I don't want to take any chances where my family's concerned."

"That'd be best," Remus agreed. "But what are you going to do tonight? Like you said, it'd be best not to push your luck."

"We could stay here," Marlene said, turning to look at Lily. "I mean, if it was okay with you. I don't think I could go home right now, knowing you still aren't safe. We could ward the house; I doubt any Death Eater will try anything stupid right now, what with all of the Wizarding World looking for them. And we aren't due at the Order Headquarters until the morning."

Lily nodded, feeling relieved. "I'd like that. I'll feel safer, knowing you're all here."

* * *

It was almost dawn by the time the Potters had finally climbed into bed, with a still-sleeping Harry securely between them. James had protested, but Lily had insisted on having their son sleep with them, if only for the night—she couldn't bear to keep him out of her sight more than she had to.

She had been laying in bed for the past ten minutes, staring at the dark ceiling; although she was exhausted, sleep wouldn't come to her. James was laying beside her, his breath even and she turned her head to him, observing his sleeping figure in the darkness. It was a scary thought, knowing that, had Peter chosen to speak, both she, her husband and her child could all be dead. Lily turned on her side and pulled Harry closer to her body, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead, before turning to James' sleeping figure again.

"James?" she whispered softly, trying to determine whether or not her husband was already asleep. She didn't know what she was going to say to him; all she knew was that she needed to hear his voice, to know that he was still there.

"What is it?" James responded, voice thick with sleep. His hand found hers in the dark and he gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Nothing. It's just—I love you."

"I love you, too, Lil."

Although Lily couldn't see him, she knew he was smiling. She let out a small smile of her own as she settled back down to sleep.

They slept peacefully that night for the first time in over a year, knowing that their son was finally safe.

* * *

**A/N**_**: **It always bugged me that James and Lily weren't their own Secret-Keeper. I mean, Bill did it, so we can assume it would work for them as well. So I guess this was my way of explaining it: that the idea never crossed their minds. Only explanation I could come up with, other that, if they had, we wouldn't have a story, would we?_

_Anywho, I was going to jump around a bit, but I decided that a short explanation would be best. As for Voldemort's death, in case anyone is interested, it'll come up in one of the later chapters. Anyway, if you guys like the story so far and don't think I'm just wasting my time here, why not favorite, follow or __drop a__ review? It'd be greatly appreciated if you did :)_

_Did I just ask you guys to review twice I think I did..get the hint ;) lol :p_


	3. Unexpected Alliances

**A/N:**_ First, a big thanks to my reviewers: **aggies2015**, **whofan94**, **Magic and the Marauders**, **mfmxxx**, and **Ondo Maximum** and all those who favorited and followed! Here, have a Chocolate frog :)_

_Anywho, I didn't expect to have an update this soon, but well, here you go. I'm seriously considering placing this story as my top priority because it just comes so easy to me, but I guess we'll have too see how well this chapter turns out :) Also, as one reviewer pointed out that Marlene was killed before the Fidelius Charm, I felt the need to repeat myself: THIS STORY IS AU. I'm twisting the plot to my convenience. Oh, and this chapter is split between Lily's POV and that of our favorite snarky Potions professor. Enjoy :)_

**Disclaimer: **_If you haven't figured out by now that I do not own Harry Potter, there is something Siriusly wrong with you._

* * *

**Chapter 2:** Unexpected Alliances

_**S**he should have known better than to let her guard down._

_Thick smoke engulfed her all around and she found that she couldn't see more than a few feet in front of her. Flashes of red and green flew past her, but she ignored them. She walked amongst the debris, ignoring the cool sensation of something trickling down the side of her face as she looked desperately around her; everything was pure chaos._

_She could see fallen bodies adorning the ground and she bit her lip from crying out loud when she saw him: Sirius' motionless figure lying on the ground, the ghost of his smirk still etched upon his handsome face and there, immediately to his left was the lifeless body of a certain hazel-eyed, wild-haired man. She fell to her knees, supressing a sob as she reached out a hand to him._

_It couldn't be him. James couldn't be dead._

_She shouted until her voice was hoarse, but her cries were drowned out by the explosions around her. She dug her nails onto the front of his robes, willing him to open his eyes. She cried until she no tears came out, until they were only dry sobs._

_"Silly girl," a cold voice whispered in her ear and she looked up, trying to find the source of the voice. "Did you really think you could win? Your husband's dead and now your son will follow the same fate."_

_She found no one; vaguely she administered that the explosions had stopped, as had the flashes of green and red; she was alone._

_"No," she croaked pleadingly out to the nothingness around her, her voice hoarse. "Leave Harry alone. Please. Not Harry. Please."_

_A cold voice cackled, mixing in with the glorious sound of her son calling to her:_

_"Mummy!"_

_She smiled in relief as she turned around to see Harry toddling toward her but her smile fell as she saw the tall, pale man clad in black robes standing behind him, smirking cruelly. She stood, frantically trying to get to her son as she saw the man raise his wand, pointing it at Harry._

_"Avada Kedavra!"_

_Her heart stopped as the green light left the wand and the spell made contact with Harry's back. He fell to the ground and she yelled, her screams mingling with the pale man's cold cackle._

_"Harry!" she cried desperately. She could vaguely hear her name being called in the distance. "Harry…_Lily_…Harry…"_

_"_Lily_!"_

She woke with a start, her heart beating erratically against her chest, cold sweat engulfing her, as she tried to make out her surroundings. All around her she was red and gold—the colours James had insisted they use to decorated their bedroom—and she realised she was in her room again. She let out a small breath she hadn't known she was holding as she turned back to her bed, but found it empty. She felt her panic rising once more, when she heard someone calling her again, this time softly.

"Lil."

She felt someone touching her shoulder gently and she looked up to see James looking at her, a concerned look etched upon his handsome face, holding their one-year old son. She supressed a sob as she flung herself at them, happiness flooding her. It had all been a dream—a _very_ bad dream.

"Lil, are you alright, darling?" James asked, his voice stuck between mild amusement and concern.

She nodded as she pulled back to look at him, clasping his face between her hands.

"It's just—I had a horrible dream," she whispered, before hugging him tightly again.

"It was just a dream," James said softly, placing a kiss on top of her hair. "It's all over now."

Somehow, his words undid something inside of her and it all came flooding back to her: Peter's death, Voldemort's downfall and the still-present threat against their lives that Voldemort's demise had brought upon them.

Two weeks, _two_ _weeks_ had passed since that day and they had had no luck. The Death Eaters were still at large and neither the Order nor the Auror Department had any idea where they could be hiding. The few Death Eaters they had managed to capture had been released immediately after. According to their lawyers, there was no sound evidence that could associate them with Voldemort.

"But it's not over yet, James," she said as she pulled away from him once more.

James reached out to her, placing a red curl behind her ear.

"It'll be over soon, love. You'll see."

"I hope so, James," she sighed as she turned her attention to her son.

She reached for Harry and James obliged, sighing softly as he placed Harry in her waiting arms. She smiled down at her son as she smoothed his hair and Harry looked up at her, the mischievous grin she loved so much grazing his features. She wished it was over _now_; it wasn't fair that her son was being forced into hiding, just because of one man's silly fear over a Prophecy. Especially when said man was already dead.

Lily looked up to see James observing her, a sad, little smile etched upon his face. She reached a hand out to him, which he took without hesitation, giving it a gentle squeeze.

She was becoming more aware of her surroundings now and she looked out their bedroom window; it was nearing noon, if the position of the sun was anything to go by.

"Why didn't you wake me?" she asked, turning back to her husband.

"You looked so peaceful in your sleep," James answered sheepishly. "I didn't want to wake you. Besides, Harry and I managed on our own, right Prongslet?" he asked, reaching out a hand to lightly pinch their son's cheek.

Harry playfully batted at James' hand while Lily rolled her eyes at her husband's use of the ridiculous nickname Sirius had come up for their son, trying to hide her smile; she didn't entirely _hate_ it, but she wasn't about to let Sirius know that, either.

"Well," she said, her voice holding a hint of amusement as she looked down at their son again, "at least, this time, you remembered where you left him."

James smiled sheepishly as she passed a hand through his hair; the last time Lily had left James alone with Harry, was when he had been just a few months old. He had somehow convinced Lily that he could handle Harry on his own, while she caught up on her much needed sleep. It had been a disaster, to say the very least; Lily had come back from her nap to find the house in complete disarray and Harry nowhere to be found. They had found him, of course, sleeping behind one of the large armchairs, where he had crawled to when James' back had been turned.

Needless to say, Lily had never left Harry alone with James again.

She laughed softly at the memory.

"Can you believe it, Harry?" she cooed, touching her son's nose lightly. "Daddy actually lost you for a while. Luckily, you've got a smart Mummy who found you in no time."

"Only because he cried," James reminded her.

"I would have found him anyway," Lily replied haughtily. "I am, after all, his mother."

James smirked, shaking his head, but said nothing. Lily rose from the bed, placing Harry on her hip as she stretched her stiff muscles.

"Come on, love. Let's get you some lunch."

"Thank Merlin." James grinned as he followed after her. "I'm starved."

"I was talking to Harry," Lily said, looking over her shoulder as she smirked at her husband.

James laughed as he playfully swatted Lily's backside and she swatted his hand away, which only caused James to grin lopsidedly at her. She rolled her eyes as she reached the stairs, frowning slightly as she heard the soft voices carrying up from their sitting room. She turned around to look at her husband, a questioning look on her face.

"Yeah, I forgot to tell you we had company," James said sheepishly, passing a hand through his hair again. "That's why I went to wake you; Sirius came over and said he needed to talk to us."

Lily nodded absentmindedly, looking down at her clothes; she was wearing James' old Quidditch shirt and a pair of old sweats. All in all, nothing too indecent. She shrugged, before descending down the stairs; she would have descended the stairs even if she were wearing anything that could've been considered indecent—if Sirius had actually taken some time off from the Order to come talk to them, then whatever he had to say _must_ be important. Hopefully, it would be to tell her that all the Death Eaters' had been captured.

She could make out Sirius' voice now, as well as Marlene's and Remus' and that of another woman, which seemed vaguely familiar. She stopped in her tracks as she reached the final step, inhaling loudly as she clutched Harry tightly to her chest: there, in front of her, stood none other than Bellatrix Lestrange.

Her intake of breath caught everyone's attention and they stopped talking, turning to look at her. James walked up behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Is everything alright, dear?" Bellatrix asked and Lily frowned; this woman's voice was warm and gentle—a stark contrast to Bellatrix's cold and leering tone.

"I probably should have warned you that Andromeda was here," James whispered in her ear and it took all her willpower to stop herself from smacking James.

Now that Lily looked closer, the woman's resemblance to her crazed sister was less pronounced: Andromeda Tonks' hair was a light brown rather than black and her grey eyes were wider and kinder, but she carried herself in the same graceful manner, as one who comes from nobility usually does.

"You think?" she hissed, before turning to Andromeda, smiling apologetically. "I'm sorry, Andromeda, it's just that this whole thing has made me a bit jumpier than usual."

Andromeda laughed warmly, waving her apology off. "It's all right, Lily. We all are. I do hold a certain resemblance to my sister, don't I?"

The way she said it gave off the impression that she had gotten used to being confused with her sister, but that didn't mean she enjoyed it, either.

"I'm sorry," Lily repeated once more, feeling the need to apologise; although why she did not know. It had been an honest mistake, confusing her with her sister; after all, both women looked remarkably alike.

"Don't be," Andromeda said, offering her a small smile. "It's not your fault. It's nobody's fault, really," she added as an afterthought, more to herself than anything else.

Sirius cleared his throat and all eyes turned to him.

"We should get down to business. We've been offered some insight as to where the Death Eaters are hiding."

At this he motioned to a woman Lily hadn't seen upon entering. She was a few years older than she, with a pale complexion and crystalline blue eyes and clutched a sleeping boy to her chest, with the same blond hair and pale complexion his mother had. Lily recognised her instantly: Narcissa Malfoy.

"What is she doing here?" Lily hissed, taking a step back from the woman. "I want her out of my house."

Narcissa had been a few years above Lily in Hogwarts and while both women had gone out of their way to avoid each other, the few times they had interacted where not exactly pleasant. Top that to the fact that she was married to Lucius Malfoy, one of Voldemort's most loyal Death Eater's and nobody could blame Lily about not wanting the woman in her house.

"She's here to help, Lily," Sirius tried to reassure her, but Narcissa stopped him, raising a hand.

"It's alright, Sirius," she said to her cousin, before turning to her. Her voice was calm, if a bit haughty. "I mean no harm to your or your son, Lily. I know we don't exactly have a good history, but believe me when I say this: I've come to help."

"Why should I believe you?" Lily asked bluntly. "You're married to a Death Eater. He could have sent you for all I know."

Narcissa's face revealed no emotion as she regarded Lily. How could she gain her trust? She really meant no harm. And then, it hit her: _Be honest_. _Appeal to her motherly instinct_.

"I left Lucius," Narcissa said calmly, although, in reality, it took all her willpower to admit it out loud. "I'm sure you know what a vicious man Lucius can be; I couldn't bear the thought of knowing Draco could eventually grow up to become a man like _him_. You have a son; wouldn't you have done the same thing?"

Lily hesitated as she considered Narcissa; was she telling the truth?

She thought back on the few times they had interacted; while Bellatrix had gone out of her way to make her life miserable in every way possible, Narcissa had only ever gone as far as sending a few snide remarks her way. If Lily was being honest, she couldn't blame her; she had seen what happened to those few Slytherins that had tried to go against their House's beliefs. Hadn't Andromeda been castoff by her family, after all?

"Why are you willing to help us?" Lily asked dubiously.

"I want no part in my husband's actions," she responded coolly. "I do not care for their petty war or their beliefs. All I care is for Draco to be safe."

Narcissa looked down at her son then, and Lily saw reflected in her eyes the same concern she often wore when regarding her son.

Lily looked to her left and saw James standing there, giving her a reassuring smile as he squeezed her shoulder gently. She looked down at her own son, who was looking happily at her as he played with a strand of her hair, babbling incoherently all the while. She let out a small breath as nodded and she could see Sirius smile in relief from the corner of her eye.

"Alright," she said, feeling the need to say something. Narcissa looked up and their eyes met, a look of understanding passing between them. She tore her gaze away from Narcissa's and turned to Sirius. "So, what was this information you were talking about?"

Sirius hesitated, consulting his watch.

"We should wait for Dumbledore. He should be here, soon."

As he said this, their fireplace burned green and they all held their breath as the aging wizard stepped out of it, a serene look on his face.

"Ah, I see everyone is gathered here already," he said pleasantly, his blue eyes twinkling behind his half-moon spectacles. "Good."

They all watched him, waiting for his next words, but Dumbledore merely turned to the fireplace once more, as if he were expecting something from it—or rather, expecting someone to come out from it. The fire burned green once more and a man clad in black walked out of it.

"Ah, my friend, you are here," Dumbledore said, oblivious to the glares the man was now getting.

"What is _he_ doing here?" Sirius demanded. "We didn't agree on this, Albus."

Lily inhaled sharply, feeling her blood boil at the sight of the man. She felt her feet take a life on their own as she slowly walked to the man, who didn't move or blink as he regarded her almost impassively, making her angrier.

She stopped when she was a few feet in front of him and she could feel all eyes on her, waiting for her next move.

And then, before the man could react, Lily drew her hand back and slapped him, hard.

* * *

**H**e could feel her eyes on him the moment he toppled out of her fireplace. He hadn't set eyes on her since their graduation when he had told her of joining Voldemort and Severus Snape had not known how much he had missed his former best friend until he saw her. Of course, the feeling wasn't mutual.

Lily looked nothing short of disgusted as she appraised him. He could feel the anger emanating from her tiny figure as she approached him, but he stood his ground. He didn't do anything to stop her when he saw her draw her hand back; he expected nothing less from her.

She slapped him, and he tried to ignore the stinging sensation in his right cheek, his black eyes betraying no emotion as he looked at her.

"Get out of my house," she hissed, her voice seething.

"Lily, I assure you, Severus means no harm," Dumbledore said calmly, trying to keep the situation under control. "He's come to offer his help."

"I don't know what he's told you, Headmaster," Lily said through gritted teeth, "but frankly, I don't care. I want him out of my house and away from my son."

"Lily."

A different voice spoke and Severus looked up to see _him_. _Potter_.

James ignored him, focusing his attention on Lily—_his wife_, Severus reminded himself—touching her arm gently. Lily blinked, turning to look at him as if she had forgotten he was there at all. She seemed to relax at his touch and Severus couldn't help but feel resentful as he observed them.

"I don't like this anymore than you do and trust me, I'm not at all happy at having _him_ in our house," James said, as if Severus weren't standing right there, "but perhaps we should hear the Headmaster out."

"He's a _Death Eater_, James. I don't trust him."

At this, Dumbledore cleared his throat and they both turned their attention to him.

"While that may have been true at one point, Severus' loyalty had changed long before Voldemort's demise two weeks ago. He was no longer working for him."

"Oh, really?" Lily asked in a mocking voice. "And how did Voldemort take your resignation?"

She turned to look at him, her eyes cold and unforgiving.

"I don't know," Severus said, speaking up for the first time since his arrival. "I never told him. Although he should have seen it coming, after he decided to go after you. And your family," he added, barely able to conceal his bitter tone.

"What?" Lily asked, shock and disbelief etched all over her face. Obviously, she hadn't been expecting him to say this.

"It is true, Lily," Dumbledore said. "Severus came to me after he learned Voldemort was after Harry. If it hadn't been for him, well…" He trailed off, leaving the sentence unfinished.

"Why?" James asked, sounding as dumbfounded as Lily did.

"She was my best friend," Severus drawled, shrugging his shoulders. _And I love her, _he added to himself_. Or I thought I did._

Severus knew that, had he really loved her, he would have never joined Voldemort's forces. He'd have fought harder for her. But he hadn't.

"Well, down to business," Dumbledore said, taking advantage of this stunned moment of silence as he clasped his hands. "Now, Narcissa, I believe you have some information for us?"

Snape turned to look at the blond woman to his right, who was clutching his godson tightly against her chest.

Narcissa nodded. "I do. But first, I must have your word that you will protect me and my son."

She looked at the Headmaster defiantly as if daring him to disagree.

"Of course, Narcissa. You have my word."

She took a deep breath, as if to gather her courage, before speaking again.

"They are hiding in one of the many properties Lucius owns. It is a small château, located off the north coast of France. It is protected with Anti-Apparating and repelling spells, as well as many darker wards. I do not doubt your people would be able to get through them all; they are not expecting you, I can assure you. That will work to your advantage."

"How many of them?"

"Well, there is Lucius for one and the Lestranges. I believe Avery, Nott, Mulciber, Dolohov, Travers, Selwyn, Goyle and Crabbe might be among them."

"I see." Dumbledore nodded, deep in thought. "Have you any more information?"

Narcissa hesitated. "I also know of several others, who have managed to escape prosecution."

Sirius perked up at this, looking earnestly at his cousin.

"Who, Cissa?"

"Well, Walden Macnair is one of them."

"Wasn't he captured earlier this week?" Remus asked with a slight frown.

"Yes, but he was let go because of our lack of evidence against him," Marlene responded, looking at Narcissa. "Who else?"

She hesitated again. "Barty Crouch Jr."

"Crouch's son?" Sirius asked in disbelief.

"I can attest to that," Severus spoke up. "I worked on several missions with him. He is one of the Dark Lord's most loyal followers."

"Well, that is, _i__nteresting_," Dumbledore spoke, lost in thought.

"I have more to that," Narcissa spoke again.

"What is it, Cissa?" Sirius asked.

Narcissa turned to look at her sister then, appearing doubtful. A look of understanding passed between them and Narcissa sighed, turning back to them.

"The Longbottoms are to be attacked, tonight. I heard Lucius talking about it before he left."

"By whom?"

"Crouch and the Lestranges."

"I see." Dumbledore turned to Sirius. "I believe Moody needs to be informed of this. Tell him to get our people ready. We end this tonight."

Sirius nodded, before stepping into the fireplace.

"Order's Headquarters," he shouted, before disappearing from view as the green flames engulfed him.

Lily suppressed a sob as she clutched her son to her chest. She turned to James, whose face reflected her happiness and relief. He placed his forehead against hers, whispering sweet nothings to her, the rest of them forgotten.

They were perfect for each other, Severus admitted ruefully to himself as he observed them. He knew that he could never have made Lily as happy as James seemed to make her. Perhaps, it was time to let go of silly grudges after all.

* * *

**A/N:**_ Yes, Severus. I agree with you. You should really let go of that silly grudge. Or you'll be miserable if you don't. Trust me. I like you, which is why I'm not going to kill you off in this story and I'll actually let you have your happy ending. Yay! *claps enthusiastically* _

_Okay enough of my craziness. If you're reading this, I have a few questions for you: How do you feel about Narcissa and Snape? Also, I was thinking about having Gabian and Fideon be alive in this story...wait did I just write Fideon and Gabian? lol wow talk about sleep deprived. I mean Fabian and Gideon..anywho what was I saying? Oh, yeah. I was thinking about having them be alive in this story, but killing one of them off in the next Chapter. How do you guys feel about that? I'd love to hear any feedback! Thanks!  
_


	4. It Ends Tonight, Part I

**A/N: **_I updated just for you, guest reviewer. And all of you who reviewed/favorited/followed the story so far. Big thank you to all of you :) I would have updated sooner, but I've had a long week, trying to catch up on my homework because I'm a fantastic procrastinator. Anyway, here's the update and this chapter is split in two parts. Not much happens in this chapter, except Alice and Frank are introduced into the story, which I just had to do because I like Alice. It jumps around with the POV's but I hope it won't be to confusing. I've no idea what else I wanted to say because I'm dead tired, so I'll just shut up. Enjoy!_

* * *

**Chapter 3: **It Ends Tonight, Part I

The day had started out like any other. Mr and Mrs Longbottom had climbed out of bed just as the sun had risen over the small village of Upper Flagley. They had sat at their breakfast table, and, like every other morning before that, Mr Longbottom had read the newspaper as he sipped his tea while Mrs Longbottom fed their one-year old son. Every so often, Mr Longbottom would relate a particular story of interest to Mrs Longbottom, who would listen with rapt interest. Had anyone been looking through their window at the moment, they would have seen just another happy family.

Not that anyone could, seeing as Mr and Mrs Longbottom where currently in hiding.

"Do you think they've caught them yet?" Mrs Longbottom asked, her voice hopeful.

"I doubt it, dear," Mr Longbottom responded with a sigh. "Moody would have told us if they did; he promised to keep us informed."

Mrs Longbottom exhaled slowly; after one-year of hiding, she was ready to call it quits. She was done; she wanted nothing more than to be able to walk out her front door, without the fear of being killed.

Her son laughed happily to her left and she turned to observe him, a small smile grazing her otherwise tired face.

Even at the young age of one, it was extraordinary how much Neville looked like her. Everything from his round face to his chocolate-brown eyes that twinkled happily as he smashed the Pixie Puffs she had poured out for him, was all her. Of course, he looked like Frank, too. They both had the same wavy, blond hair and ability to make her feel loved and safe with just one look.

Sensing her gaze, Neville looked up, giving her a wide grin as he put a handful of the mushy mess into his mouth. She let out a small laugh as she caressed his cheek; if it was for Neville's safety, then perhaps waiting a few more months wasn't that bad. Even waiting another year would be worth it, if it meant her son's safety.

She looked up then, to see her husband observing them, a sad, little smile playing on his lips. He looked twice his age, his blond hair already growing grey in some places and she wanted nothing more than to reach out to him and smooth down the worry lines that seemed to adorn his face lately. She hated what this war was doing to him, to _them_; robbing her son of what should be the happiest days of his childhood, robbing them of the chance of actually being a family. And she knew it was for their son's safety that they had gone into hiding, but she wished that it were over. Soon.

"It ends today , Alice," Frank said softly as if he had read her mind, covering her hand with one of his. She looked into his bright, blue eyes, willing herself to believe him, even if he had been telling her the same thing for the past year. "I can feel it."

"I hope so, Frank," Alice responded, letting out a tired sigh.

"It will, you'll see," Frank assured her as he stood from his seat, pressing a kiss to her temple.

She watched as he left their homely kitchen for the privacy of his study, where she knew he would occupy himself with managing the Longbottom enterprises. It wasn't what he wanted to do and she knew he missed his Auror duties, but it helped keep him busy and that was always a good thing.

Alice didn't know why, but she couldn't help but get the feeling that something was going to happen, something big, as she observed his retreating back. She found herself stealing a worried glance at the fireplace, even though she knew that it was nearly impossible for anyone to come toppling out of it without their knowledge first; Frank had taken all the necessary precautions to keep his family safe and had made sure that the only other fireplace theirs was connected to was that of the Order Headquarters and of Longbottom Manor. Even then, he kept it sealed at all times only taking down his wards when Dumbledore or Moody asked for it. But even with these precautions, there was still the ever-present threat of an infiltration.

She let out a small sigh as she gathered Neville in her arms and carried him upstairs to his room, determined to put as much distance between herself and the fireplace as possible.

She spent most of the morning entertaining her son, playing little games with him and such, trying to keep her mind off of the queasy feeling she was getting. This she did until one o'clock when she gathered her son in her arms once more and made her way down the stairs again. After a quick lunch, of which she didn't eat much, she put Neville down for his nap. It was her daily routine and she went through all the steps mechanically; she couldn't say she liked it but the familiarity of her routine gave her life some sense of normalcy the war had taken away from her and normal was safe and safe was always good.

She had just managed to get Neville to fall asleep and was heading back down the stairs, when the sound of voices made her stop in her tracks and she held her breath, taking a step back. She extracted her wand from the back pockets of her jeans, gripping it tightly in her hands. She walked slowly down the stairs, trying very hard to remain unnoticed as she strained to hear what was being said. She could make out her husband's voice, of course, and that of another male, whose deep, husky voice sounded familiar. It wasn't until the man let out a barking laugh that she knew who he was.

"Sirius!"

She didn't know she had spoken out loud until both men turned around to greet her, but she didn't care; she flew down the stairs and into the grey-eyed man's arms.

"Oh, Merlin, I can't believe it's you, Sirius," she said happily as she hugged him tightly. Ever since her mother, the late Lucretia Prewett, had revealed to her that she and Sirius were related, they had grown quite close. She had missed him, of course, missed him dearly as she had the rest of her friends. "Oh, it's so good to see you!"

"Of course it is. You've obviously missed me, not that I blame you; it's hard not to, really," Sirius said and, although she couldn't see him, she knew he was wearing his trademark smirk.

"Still the same arrogant prat, I see," Alice said as she pulled away, a tinge of amusement in her voice.

"Just how you love me," he said, grinning at her and Alice rolled her eyes giving him a grin of her own as she observed his appearance. She could see the faint sadness lingering behind his grey eyes and her grin dropped.

"What's wrong, Sirius?" she asked, her voice laced with concern.

Sirius hesitated as he looked to Frank, who looked even more tired than ever.

"Where's Neville, dear?" Frank asked even as he made his way toward the stairs.

"Upstairs, sleeping," she called after him, a frown appearing on her forehead. She turned to look at Sirius, searching his eyes. "What's wrong?" she said, her gaze not leaving his as she urged him to respond to her.

Sirius sighed, passing a hand through his tired face as he avoided her eyes.

"Regulus," he said simply, the pain evident in his voice. And, although she hadn't necessarily been close to him, she felt her stomach drop as he said the words she hadn't realised she dreaded: "Regulus is dead."

Her breath caught in her throat as she watched one of the men she loved most rapidly blink away his tears and it was hard to see him like this, because in all the years she had known Sirius Black, he had never cried once. Not even when he had left home and his mother had all but disowned him.

"I'm sorry, Sirius," she finally managed to whisper out.

Sirius pinched the bridge of his nose as he took a deep breath to compose himself, while holding up his other hand to her. He finally looked back at her and she could see his eyes were bloodshot and he was trying very hard not to cry.

"It's alright," he said, his voice hoarse from not crying, although she knew it was anything but.

She knew, Sirius having told her on several occasions, that he loved his brother dearly, despite their differences. And this was surely killing him. But she knew Sirius and knew that he would talk, whenever he felt ready, so she didn't push it.

"How's everybody?" she asked softly, hugging herself.

"Everyone's alright," Sirius said, grateful for the change in conversation. And, just like that, he was all business again. "I've come with news."

"Good or bad?" she asked, not really sure if she wanted to know the answer.

"Good." He hesitated. "For the most part."

"What is it?" she asked.

"Well, for one, the Order has received information that there is to be an attack staged on your house by three Death Eaters. Tonight."

"How can they?" she said, her voice fearful. "They don't know our location, do they?"

"Well it seems that Voldemort had people working for him, within the Ministry _and_ with connections to important Ministry officials. Like Barty Crouch Jr., for instance."

"Barty Crouch's son?" Alice asked incredulously. "As in _the_ Head of the Department of Magical Enforcement's son?"

She couldn't believe it; she had talked to Crouch Jr. on a number of occasions and yes, he had appeared to be less than normal to say the very least, but she would have never guessed he had it in him to wander into the Dark Arts. Not with Barty Crouch Sr. as his father; it just wasn't plausible.

"Yeah, I couldn't believe it either, at first. But we've got two witnesses that are willing to testify on his involvement with Voldemort." She exhaled loudly, collapsing onto the nearest armchair. "We need to get you out of here. Take you somewhere safe."

"Where?"

"The Order's Headquarters. The Potters are already there, per Dumbledore's orders. We're not taking any chances right now. Not when so many lives are at stake."

Alice sighed again, rubbing a hand across her tired face.

"Don't worry, Al," Sirius said, trying to comfort her. "The good news in this is that we know of the attack."

"How is that good news?" Alice asked as she put her head in her hands. "You're telling me that my son's life is in danger. Good news would be telling me that all those bloody bastards are safely locked away in Azkaban."

"It's not as bad as you think, Al. It's actually a good thing."

"He's right, love," Frank said softly, as he walked back down the stairs, Neville safely in his arms.

"We know about the attack, right? That gives us an advantage. We could stage a counter-attack; the Death Eater's won't even see what hit them."

He paused, the mechanisms of his brain working out all sorts of strategies, like the Auror he was and Sirius took the opportunity to speak again.

"There's something else. And I promise this _is_ better news."

"What is it?"

"We've managed to capture a handful of Death Eaters, thanks to my informant, who also revealed the exact location of where the rest of them are hiding."

Alice looked up at Sirius then, her eyes wide and hopeful. She looked over to her son, who was sleeping peacefully in Frank's arms, oblivious to what was happening around him. Could it be, that after one-year of hiding, this could be over? That they could finally be free again? She turned back to Sirius, not daring herself to get her hopes up, lest this be just another dream.

"Please tell me you aren't joking, that I'm not dreaming."

Sirius smiled. "I'm not. It ends tonight, Ali."

* * *

Lily had been pacing in front of the fireplace for the past half-hour and James was surprised that she hadn't managed to burn a whole in the rug. He found it a bit annoying, to be truthful, but he said nothing about it; he knew his wife was anxious as well as excited about the possibility of finally being free after a year of imprisonment; that and seeing one of her best friends again, after almost a year of hiding. He bit his tongue as she passed him once more; he knew exactly how she felt and he wasn't about to ruin this moment for her. From the corner of his eye, he could see an obviously annoyed Narcissa determinedly trying to ignore his anxious wife.

Of course, he could always count on blunt and outspoken Marlene to say something.

"Will you stop that, Lillian?" Marlene asked, momentarily extracting herself from the game she was playing with her godson. "It's getting on my nerves. Or I swear I'll tie you to that bloody armchair if you don't."

Lily turned around, her red curls whipping the air around her, glaring at her best friend. "First of all, do not call me Lillian. My name. Is. Lily," she said through gritted teeth and James couldn't help but bite back a laugh. It had always irritated his wife greatly whenever anyone tried to call her any other variant of Lily and had gone as far as hexing them if they dared; James was living proof of that. "Second—"

But whatever Lily was about to say was forgotten as the fireplace to the Order Headquarters burned green. She took a step back, wrapping her arms around herself and she held her breath in anticipation. Marlene too rose from her seat, gathering Harry in her arms, whom she handed to James, before going to stand next to the redhead. Soon, they were joined by Emmeline Vance, fellow Order member and best friend to Alice, as well as Lily and Marlene. The women held their breath as a figure came toppling out of it, only to let out a disappointed groan.

"Nice to see you, too, ladies," Sirius said, his ever-present smirk in place.

"Bugger off, Sirius. We're waiting for someone," Marlene said and Sirius barked out a laugh as he placed a kiss on her cheek.

"She'll be here any moment."

As he said this, the fireplace grew green once more and, before the petite woman who came out of it could react, she was engulfed in hugs. James could barely make out what they were saying, only catching a few phrases like "I've missed you" and "Look at you!". Other than that, it was all just one unintelligible, teary, shrieking mess. Frank came out of the fireplace seconds after, with Neville in his hands, looking around the commotion in surprise.

A few curious onlookers had entered the sitting room, attracted by the commotion the women were making, all with confused expressions on their faces as they observed the teary reunion.

"What the hell is going on?" Remus asked in bewilderment as he came to stand next to them.

"Your guess is as good as mine, mate," Sirius said with a clueless shrug.

They carried on like that for what seemed like ages as the men stared uncomfortably at the scene before them, at loss of what to do. Finally, they paused long enough for Sirius to clear his throat as they wiped his tears and all attention turned to him.

"Alright, I know you're all excited to see each other and you'll have time for more of that," he gestured to them with a wave of his hand, "but we really do need to get ready."

"Sirius is right," Emmeline sniffed, wiping her tears with the sleeve of her robes. "We really should get going. There's plenty to do."

"That and we really would love a break from all that shrieking." Fabian Prewett stepped out from behind Remus, an impish grin on his face as he regarded his younger cousin. "Nice to see you again, Al."

Alice let out another shriek as she ran to him, throwing her arms around the redheaded man, much to his amusement.

"Oh, Fabian, I've missed you! Where's Gideon?" she asked as she stepped away, looking around for Fabian's twin brother.

"With Moody, trying to gather our people. From what we've gathered, we're going to need plenty of capable people to bring those Death Eater's down."

"In that case," Frank spoke up and all eyes turned to him, "I want to join."

Alice's face, which had been full of untold joy just moments before, fell dramatically as she stared at her husband.

"Are you sure, Frank?" she asked, her voice quivering slightly.

"Yes," he said firmly, standing tall, like the Auror he was.

He turned to the other Order members, as if daring them to disagree, before Sirius finally nodded his agreement. Frank turned to Alice and they both stared at each other, him in determination and she in defiance, until finally, Alice turned away, taking Neville from her husband's hands.

"Well, we should get going," Sirius said tiredly, after an awkward silence.

James turned to Lily just as the Order members turned to leave, and she shook her head resolutely, as if reading her mind. He gave her an apologetic look, before calling out to Sirius.

"I'm coming, too."

"No, James! You can't!" Lily said fiercely, her chest heaving.

"I'm sorry, Lil," he said, trying to reach a hand out to her, but she took a step back.

"Tell him he can't," she hissed, turning to look at Sirius.

Sirius looked helplessly between them both, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck.

"I—well, erm, I'm sorry, Lil. But I can't do that. If he wants to go, he has every right to."

"Then I'm coming, too."

Despite her stubbornness, James could hear the fear creeping in her voice and he let out a tired sigh. He felt somebody slip Harry from out of his arms and he took a tentative step toward his wife.

"Lily, love, you can't go," he said gently, becoming vaguely aware that their friends had left, leaving them alone. "It's too dangerous."

"Oh, so what? You can?" She narrowed her eyes at him, crossing her arms tight across her chest. "So it's perfectly acceptable for you to go out and put your life in danger, but not me? Is it because I'm a woman? Well, let me tell you something, James—"

"It's not that, Lily!" James cut her off, raising his voice over hers. He sighed, lowering his voice as he passed a hand through his dishevelled hair. "It's not that, love. I just don't want you to go. Please."

"You cannot expect me to stay here!" Lily yelled. She sounded angry, frustrated and the tiniest bit scared. He took another step toward her, glad when she didn't step back. "You cannot expect me to act out the part of the concerned _wife_ and sit around doing nothing while the man I love puts his life in mortal danger! I can't do that, James. I can't sit here not knowing what's going on."

"And I can't either, Lily! I've been doing that for the past year. But enough is enough, you know? And I know we did it for Harry's safety, but that's why I want to go. I want to make sure myself that we get all of them. For Harry. For you." He looked at her, trying to get her to understand as he took another step in her direction. Lily sighed, hugging herself, but said nothing. "And I can't just stay here, not doing anything."

He took another step, finally reaching her. He reached out a hand to cup her face and her shoulders slumped in defeat, her anger dissipating. She looked so small and scared that James almost decided not to go. But he didn't. Instead, he gathered her in his arms.

"Please come back, James. Come back to us," she pleaded against his chest, her voice desperate. "Please."

"I will." His voice sounded less sure than he would have liked.

"Promise me you will," she said, taking a step back to look at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Promise me."

He wiped a stray tear from her face and placed his hand gently on her cheek.

"I promise."

* * *

Outside, Sirius prepared his team as he always did before a mission, glancing every so often at the closed door of the Order's sitting room. He had been tempted to deny James permission to accompany them on this mission, but he had decided against it; he knew his best friend would have never forgiven him if he did. He just hoped he could forgive himself, because if anything happened to James—he didn't think he could carry around anymore blame.

"It'll be alright, love," Marlene said, coming to stand next to him, laying her head on his shoulders.

"I hope so, Mars," he whispered. He turned to his girlfriend, trying to determine the best way to ask her to stay behind, just this once, but she spoke first.

"You know, I think I ought to stay here, with Lily. She'll need someone to hold her hand through all this."

Sirius barely managed to contain in his sigh of relief.

"If that's what you want, love," he said as the door was swung open. James came out, giving him a nod, just as Moody and Dumbledore made their appearance.

"Is everyone ready?" Moody barked, his magical eye whizzing around in its socket.

"Yes, sir," Sirius responded, before turning back to Marlene. "I'll see you when I get back," he said, just as he always did whenever he went away for a mission.

"We'll be waiting for you," she whispered, reaching up to kiss him. Sirius gave her a small smile as he went to join his team. "Come back to us," Marlene said, just as he placed a finger on the portkey that would take them directly into Malfoy's hiding place.

The portkey had been Narcissa's most important contribution to their operation; it had been given to her by Malfoy and she had promised that it would take them directly into the château. Snape was already there, trying his best to get down as much wards as possible, without getting caught, of course. Sirius was still a bit doubtful about trusting him, but Dumbledore had given him his word that he was working for their side.

It wasn't until Sirius felt the familiar sensation of someone pulling behind his navel, when Marlene's words finally caught up to him. _We'll _be waiting for you? Come back to _us_? What in the bloody hell did she mean by that?

He couldn't ponder on the meaning, however, as he came spiralling back down. He landed with a soft thud, both feet on the ground. They had landed in a large sitting room that, fortunately for them, was empty. They stayed quiet for a full second, straining to hear whether or not their intrusion had been noticed. To their relief, they hadn't and they all let their guard down a bit as Moody signalled them to get moving. Remus led half of their team outside through one of the large glass doors, to aid in bringing down the wards so that the rest of the Order could join them, while Sirius and the other half of the team, along with James, joined Moody.

Moody motioned Sturgis Podmore to open the door, which he did cautiously, before stepping tentatively outside. And at that moment, all Sirius saw was green as a dozen spells came rushing toward them.

* * *

**A/N**:_ Stay tuned for the next update ;)_ _It'll be soon, I promise. _


	5. It Ends Tonight, Part II

**A/N: **_First things first: I suck at duels. Siriusly. I wrote this chapter like three times. This was the best one. _

_Secondly and most importantly, a big thank you to my reviewers: _**Magic and the Marauders, ALPHAQ69, and Lord Banana.** _And to the rest of you who have favorited and followed the story! _

_Anywho, I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter. Hopefully it's not as bad as I think. In my defense, it sounded better in my head._

* * *

**Chapter 3**: It Ends Tonight, Part II

_And at that moment, all Sirius saw was green as a dozen spells came rushing toward them._

"**M**ove out of the way!"

James barely had enough time to pull Sturgis away from the door, the spell that had been aimed at his head missing him by inches. They fell with a thud to the ground and James' heart pounded loudly in his ears. Both men let out a shaky breath as they pushed themselves against the wall, keeping their heads low to avoid the spells.

"You alright?" James asked, gripping his wand tightly in his hand.

"Y-yeah," Sturgis responded, still shaky over his near-death experience.

James nodded, turning to look at Moody for instructions; he looked positively livid, his magical eye whizzing furiously in its socket. He knew they were both thinking the same thing: they had been betrayed. James had no doubt in his mind who it could have been.

"Everyone away from the wall!" Moody barked. They all obliged, scuttling away from the wall as quickly as possible, trying to steer away from the green spells, which seemed to be getting closer. "Prewett!" he growled once more, signalling to the redheaded man to James' left.

Fabian nodded once, before pointing his wand outside.

"Expulso!" he yelled, while throwing something out the door at the same time.

James brought his hands up to his face as the spell came in contact with the wall opposite to them, blowing it into pieces. A strong smell of sulphur filled his lungs and smoke fogged his vision as he felt somebody pull him to his feet.

"You alright, mate?" Sirius asked, covered head-to-toe in soot; James suspected he would look the same if he had the time to look in a mirror, which he didn't.

"Yeah," James responded as Sirius let go of his arm. "What was that?"

"Smoke bomb," Sirius explained. "Muggle-made; Weasley suggested we use them. Saved our arses more than once now."

"Come on! Get moving!" Moody growled at them, his magical eye sweeping over them.

James nodded as he stepped over the debris, his wand firmly in his hand, the Shield Charm on the tip of his tongue ready to be cast, although he knew it would be no use against the Killing Curse. His eyes swept quickly over the ground in front of him and he saw a still-figure lying there: Marcus Yaxley.

James didn't stop to check whether Yaxley was alive, just wedged an old piece of parchment into his large hands, as his eyes swept over the large entrance hall for any danger, muttering the activating phrase under his breath; it was Portkey, which would take him directly into Azkaban, where a handful of Aurors were already waiting.

He stood up again, edging his way against what remained of the wall, trying to remain unnoticed. He saw a handful of his fellow Order members crouched over fallen Death Eaters, doing exactly what he had done only moments before; the last thing they needed was for them to come to and aide the opposite side.

From the corner of his eye he could see a dark figure pointing his wand at Emmeline's back and James raised his wand without thinking.

"Stupefy!" he yelled, before the spell could leave the Death Eater's mouth. He felt an indescribable surge of adrenaline rushing through his body as he saw the Death Eater fall to the ground; it was the best he had felt in over a year. He felt _alive_. "You alright?" he asked, turning away from the fallen Death Eater and looking at Emmeline.

"Yeah," she said, a bit shakily. "You go on ahead; I'll take care of him."

James didn't need telling twice; he ran to the centre of the hall, where the rest of the Order was fighting the remaining Death Eathers. He was about to rush in and aide them, when he saw a dark figure climbing up the stairs, completely unnoticed. James changed his course and ran toward the stairs, throwing a few hexes over his shoulder, effectively hitting the Death Eater Ted Tonks was duelling in the back.

He saw Sirius standing a few feet away from Frank, duelling with who appeared to be Rodolphus Lestrange; he caught his eye momentarily and Sirius nodded once as James ran up the stairs. He could see the figure running in front of him, oblivious that he was being chased. James was about to raise his wand, when the figure took a sharp turn, disappearing from his view.

James cursed under his breath, wishing that he had the Invisibility Cloak with him; with everything that had been going on in his life, he had somehow forgotten to ask Dumbledore for it. Stupid move on his part, James had to admit to himself.

He cautiously approached the spot where the Death Eater had turned, his wand raised in front of him, ready to protect himself if he had to.

The first room he came to appeared to be empty at first glance, but James knew better than to trust his eyes.

"_Homenum Revelio,"_ he muttered.

Nothing. He turned away from the empty room and proceeded to the next one, blasting the door open with his wand. Again, nothing appeared when he cast the spell. He turned to the third door down the dark hall and was about to cast the spell when a sudden movement caught his eye. With a flick of his hand, the tip of his wand lighted and warm light engulfed the darkness around him.

He stepped in cautiously, peering at what appeared to be two motionless figures lying on the ground before him. He inhaled sharply as their faces took shape before his eyes: Lily and Harry.

They stared at him blankly, so limp and lifeless and although his common sense was yelling at him that it couldn't be them, that this was all a trap, James couldn't stop the sobs that escaped him. His fear was stronger than anything at the moment and he dropped his wand to the ground, forgetting entirely about his surroundings as he fell to his knees before his wife and son.

"Lily, please wake up," he pleaded, ignoring the part of him that was telling him to pull himself together, that it wasn't them. "Please, love."

From the corner of his eye he could see a dark figure entering the room and James scrambled to get his wand, which he spotted lying by Lily's foot. He could feel his fingers grazing it as the figure lifted his wand, pointing it at him.

"_Sectumsempra_."

* * *

**I**t had been fifteen minutes since the Order had left, but to Lily and the others that had been left behind, it felt like a lifetime.

They sat huddled around the fireplace, staring intently into it, neither of them saying anything. From the corner of her eye, Lily could see her son, Draco, and Neville being entertained by eight-year old Nymphadora Tonks, whom kept changing her features to the toddlers' delight. Marlene sat to her right, holding her hand in hers and Alice sat to her left, her head resting Lily's shoulders.

Finally, Molly Weasley, who had arrived moments after her brothers had left, broke the silence.

"I'll make some tea."

They stared after her as she scuttled off toward the kitchen and Lily sighed. Now that the silence had been broken, she felt as if she had to say something, to keep their minds occupied.

"So, a baby, huh?" she asked, smiling a bit as she turned her head to look at Marlene.

Marlene smiled, her face adopting a pleasant pink tinge.

"Yeah, I found out precisely two weeks ago."

"You're pregnant?" Andromeda asked, raising her head from her sister's shoulders. She looked pleasantly surprised, a pleased smile gracing her features. "Why, that's wonderful news!"

"Congratulations, to you and my cousin," Narcissa said pleasantly. "A child is always a blessing."

Marlene nodded, smiling at the woman. "Thank you."

"Why did you wait so long to say anything?"

"Well, with everything that has been going on these past few weeks, I just couldn't find the time. But then, as I saw Sirius leaving, I knew I just had to, in c-case—"

"He's going to be fine," Lily said firmly, cutting her off. "They're all going to be fine."

She turned away from Marlene, looking back into the fireplace, half-expecting to see James stepping out of it.

And, although she had never been a religious person, she prayed to whatever forces were out there that they bring her husband back to her, well and alive.

* * *

**J**ames held his breath as he waited for the curse to make contact with his skin; he felt as if he didn't have anything to live for. Not when his son and wife were both dead.

But the curse flew over his head, hitting someone behind him. Snape strode past him, blocking whoever was lying on the ground from his view. He crouched over the dark figure, muttering something under his breath James' couldn't hear. He saw the figure disappear from his view, before he had a chance to look at them properly.

"Come on, Potter," Snape said gruffly, as he straightened himself up, turning around to look at him.

"N-no. I can't," James croaked, turning back to his wife and son.

He felt as a pair of strong hands reached under his arms, trying to hoist him up, but James shook his head resolutely.

"I can't leave them! I'm not going anywhere!"

His broken sobs filled the air and he didn't care if Severus Snape, of all people, was watching him cry.

"Get a grip on yourself, Potter!"

"Leave me alone!" James yelled, trying to wriggle out of Snape's grasp.

"Potter!"

"Lily," James wailed, ignoring Snape. He felt Snape let go of him and he scrambled to his wife, closing his eyes as he wept. "Lily, love, you can't be dead. You can't."

"James!" James looked up to see Snape crouched in front of him, both hands on his shoulder. "Listen to me, Potter! It's not real!" He shook him a bit, as if trying to get him to understand.

"Not real?" James asked stupidly.

"No! It's just a boggart! Look!" With a wave of his wand, Snape made the figures disappear and James stared stupidly at the place where his wife and son had been laying just a few seconds ago. He looked back up to see Snape looking at him in—_concern_? "Better?"

James nodded, taking a deep breath to compose himself. He blinked a few times, trying to erase the image of seeing Lily and Harry lying lifeless in the ground.

"We've got to get going," said Snape as he pressed his wand into his hand, standing up.

James nodded again, not trusting himself to say anything else. He took a moment to compose himself, before following Snape outside. He stopped as he saw Snape standing with both arms raised, a wand pointed at his chest. He recognised Tonks immediately and made a step toward him, but Ted was quicker.

"State your name," Ted hissed, pointing his wand at James.

"James Charlus Potter," he said in what he hoped was a calm voice. "Order member since '78, married to Lily Renee Evans, father of Harry James Potter. My Patronous takes the form of a stag, which you learned during one of our missions, when we were both attacked by a group of Dementors, just before I went into hiding."

Ted nodded and turned his wand to Snape again, but James stopped him.

"It's him."

"How can you—"

"It's him," James said firmly, interrupting him. "Trust me. He's on our side."

Ted nodded again, as he conceded in lowering his wand.

"How the hell did they know we were coming? I thought Moody said they didn't know anything. Who could have told them?"

"I dunno," James responded, his eyes scanning the empty corridor behind Ted, for any possible threats. "Have the others had any luck making it past the wards?"

"I don't know about that. I came after you as soon as I could. But I can say we've got most of them; the fight's dying out."

Snape cleared his throat, making both men turn to look at him. "Actually, I might be able to answer one of your questions."

"Well?" Ted asked expectantly.

He hesitated. "I told them; Dumbledore's orders."

"That crazy old coot! Why the hell didn't he tell _us_ anything? Could've saved us a lot of trouble!"

"As to that, I have no idea."

Ted sighed, rubbing a hand through his face.

"We'll have time to question Dumbledore's eccentric ways later. Right now, we should check if anyone's hiding up here. The faster I can get back to my wife and daughter, the better."

He made a step toward the room James and Snape had exited from, but Snape stopped him.

"Don't bother. It's empty now."

"Now?" Ted asked, peering over Snape's shoulder. "Who was in there?"

"Bellatrix." Snape shot James a look from the corner of his eye. "We should get going."

Ted nodded. "Let's go," he said, heading back to the stairs.

Snape walked after him, but stopped as soon as he noticed that James was hanging back, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. He arched an eyebrow and James hesitated.

"About what happened back there—"

"Don't worry," Snape drawled. "I have no intention of telling anyone."

"It's not that Snap—Severus. I just wanted to thank you."

If Snape was surprised by James' use of his given name or his show of gratitude, he didn't show it. "Don't mention it."

James thought back to his wife, who would undoubtedly be glad to have her best friend back in her life.

"You know, Severus, you're all right," James said, as a form of truce.

Snape paused for a moment, regarding him. Something happened between the two men at the moment, something shifted between them.

"I could say the same thing about you, Potter," he said with a small smile, although on him, it was more of a smirk.

Both men hurried off after Ted, joining the fight, and, even though they didn't agree on anything, it was safe to say that, from that moment on, they became friends—or something close to it. There are some things you can't share without ending up liking each other, and seeing another man cry without judging him is certainly one of them.

* * *

**I**t was half-past ten when the fireplace to the Order's Headquarters started glowing green. Lily stood up quickly, nearly knocking Marlene, who had been sleeping with her head rested on her shoulder, to the ground.

"What the hell, Lily?" Marlene asked groggily. She turned her attention to her redheaded friend and gasped as she saw what had her so preoccupied. Without saying another word, she went to stand next to her, holding her hand tightly.

Lily wrung her hands nervously as they all held their breath, looking expectantly into the fireplace. The first group to step out of it consisted of Moody, Fabian, and Gideon, who was holding tightly onto Emmeline's hand. Molly let out a cry of relief as she rushed to her brothers, engulfing them both in tight hugs.

They looked incredibly tired, but otherwise okay. If Lily hadn't been so preoccupied for her husband, she might have been glad to see her friend well and alive. Emmeline seemed to sense that, for she approached the three women, giving them a reassuring smile.

"They're coming by Portkey."

That was all she needed to know; she turned around and ran faster than she had ever ran in her life. She rushed out the door, not bothering to stop and apologise as she bumped into somebody, just continued running as fast as her long legs would take her. She could faintly hear her friends calling out to her, but not even then did she stop.

Out in the distance she could see a group of people appearing from nothing and she let out a small cry of joy as she spotted James' messy black locks among them. James looked up, as if sensing her and their eyes locked. She picked up her speed, running into James' outstretched arms.

He picked her up and spun her around as he kissed her like he had never kissed her before, passionately and fiercely, holding her tightly against his body, as if he were afraid she might disappear if he let go.

"I told you I would come back," he whispered against her lips as he set her down again.

She said nothing, just hugged him tightly, glad to have him back in her arms. From over his shoulder she could see Sirius falling on one knee to the ground before Marlene, who looked on the verge of tears as she nodded her head fervently.

"Where's Harry?" James asked softly as he pulled away from her, sooner than Lily would have liked.

"Inside, sleeping," she said as she observed the people around them; all around, families were being reunited. Her eyes fell on a tall, gaunt man dressed in black robes, who was standing awkwardly to the side, looking forlorn.

James followed her gaze, a small smile gracing his lips.

"He saved my life, you know."

"Oh?" she asked, turning to look at her husband, who brushed a hand through his hair.

"Yeah. If it wasn't for him…" He trailed off, shaking his head as he stared into her eyes, cupping her cheek. "He's a good man, you know."

He pressed a kiss tenderly to her temple, before striding away from her, in the direction of the large building used as Headquarters. She hesitated as she observed her husband's retreating back; she knew he was giving her a chance to make amends with her best friend. But she didn't know yet if she was ready. There was so much that had happened between Severus and her, so much to be discussed that went well beyond James' understanding.

Severus had been her best friend, almost like a brother to her, the person she always went to whenever she felt lonely. She knew of his unrequited love and had tried her best to let him down easily. Perhaps that was what had caused them to start drifting apart, long before he had uttered that unforgivable word and even then Lily had tried her best to forgive him. But she couldn't forgive him for breaking his promise to her, for joining Voldemort. Not now, anyway.

But, she could at least thank him.

_Baby steps_, she told herself as she approached the pale man.

"Severus?" she asked softly.

He turned to look at her, evidently surprised at finding her standing in front of him.

"Lily," he drawled, eyeing her warily as if he half-expected her to slap him again.

"I just wanted to thank you."

Severus raised his eyebrows in surprise, blinking a few times.

"I—It was nothing," he managed after a small while.

"No. It was. James means the world to me," she said, looking him in the eye. She rose on her tiptoes, pressing a gentle kiss against the man's cheek. "Thank you."

She walked away from him then, rushing to catch up with her husband, who threw a hand over her shoulder's pressing her against the side of his body.

Had she looked back, she would have seen a surprised Severus raising a hand to gingerly touch the place where her lips had made contact with his skin.

He stared after the couple waiting to feel that pang of jealousy he usually felt, but it didn't come. What he did feel was a spark of hope. He knew he could never have Lily, that she could never love him as he had thought he loved her, but he could the next best thing: her friendship.

And perhaps things would never be the same between them, but it was better than nothing.

* * *

**A/N: **_So, that's that. I know it seems rushed, but trust me, it's all for a good cause. You'll see what I mean once we get on with the actual story. _

_Okay, so I have a few questions and you guys can PM me if you want: Should I make James an Auror or Quidditch player? What about Remus? Should I make Snape and Narcissa a couple? AND most importantly, what the hell should I name the Blackinnion baby? I suck at names. Anywho, thanks for reading!_

_Oh, and before I forget, I borrowed some of Rowling's words for this chapter. Just in case you guys caught that._

_-SirEvy_


	6. The Aftermath

**A/N:** _Sorry for the delay, guys! But I've been lacking of inspiration lately and it's probably because the semester is almost over and I've been busy trying to finish projects and turn in homework and study for finals. I swear, I was planning something entirely different for this chapter, but then this idea came to me during Psychology class, when we were discussing PTSD. And I'm no expert on the subject, so I really don't know if things could really happen like this, but here you go. Oh, and I've never had an ultrasound myself, so I'm sorry if I got it all wrong. _

_And before I forget, thank you to everyone who has reviewed/favorited/followed the story! It's really appreciated guys :)_

* * *

**Chapter 4**: The Aftermath

**T**he month following the Death Eater's capture had been the hardest Lily had endured yet. It was thirty days full of memorials and proper funeral services for all their fallen warriors: the McKinnons, who had been attacked when Marlene had been off on a mission for the Order; Dorcas Meadowes, who had been murdered when she had refused to speak when Voldemort had tried to torture their whereabouts out of her; the Potters, who had died of dragon pox a few months after their wedding, but had done their fair share of fighting; her own parents, whom Voldemort had killed after she refused to join his army; Peter Pettigrew, whose sacrifice allowed them to continue living; and the hundreds of other witches and wizards who had fought valiantly until their death, in their battle against the Dark.

And then there were the endless hours she had to spend sitting through hearings and court procedures as she, her husband and friends were called up to the stand one by one to testify. She couldn't quite get over the death stares half of the Death Eaters sent their way, as if it were their fault their Master was dead and they were being locked away, while she was free to live her life.

At least she was faring better than Narcissa, who had to deal with the loss of her husband, figuratively, and of her sister, quite literally, and the circus of reporters who seemed besides themselves with glee at being able to witness the fall of one of the most ancient and noble Wizarding families in Britain. It was impressive, Lily had to admit, the way Narcissa seemed to carry herself, tall and proud, through it all.

It was something Lily couldn't help but envy, when she was still having trouble sleeping.

It was taking her some time getting used to it, to the fact that Voldemort was really dead and the Death Eaters were really being given life-sentences in Azkaban and she would never have to worry again about waking up to the constant threat to her son's life.

But there was still that ever-present dread that would awaken her at night, feeling as if all the air had been sucked out of her lungs, the fear she had been prisoner of for almost a year clawing at her skin as she rushed to her son's nursery to find him sleeping peacefully.

She attributed this still ever-present fear to the fact that James had taken up an official job as an Auror and now she had to worry about waking up to the news that her husband had been killed during one of his Auror missions.

Luckily—or unluckily, depending on which way you wanted to see it—these fears only presented themselves at night, when all the monster that were lurking behind every corner of her mind were cut loose, making her relive the war over and over in her mind. And the guilt was the worst monster of them all, the guilt of having survived through this whole ordeal, when Peter and Dorcas and so many others had died.

During the day she had plenty to keep her mind occupied with, like unpacking the dozen boxes of possessions they had brought with them from Godric's Hollow to Potter Manor and trying to find some sense of normalcy as they settled down. She couldn't quite get used to living in the large manor—which oddly enough reminded her of a castle, with its many towers and vast grounds surrounded by trees and their own personal creek running just west of their home—when she had spent a little more over a year cooped up in a small cottage.

And then there were the dozens of free or abandoned House-Elves the late Mrs Potter had brought into her home and now Lily was responsible off. It was taking some time getting used to the fact that she had some help now and she had to constantly remind herself this, because even doing the simplest of chores, say doing the bed for example, would send Missy into a fit and she would complain to James about how 'Mistress Potter was insulting Missy by doing _Missy's_ job', which he found amusing, for some odd reason.

At least she had other things to worry about, like the preparations for Sirius and Marlene's wedding, which would be held that December because Marlene refused to get married in anything bigger than a size ten dress, since 'she had already gone up two sizes and there was no way in hell she was going to wear a dress bigger than that' because of her pregnancy, or so she claimed, but Lily knew it was more due to the fact that she had broken her rigorous Auror diet and taken to stuffing her face with cauldron cakes and any other sweets she could get her hands on.

So that left only two months of planning a wedding and two months left to prepare for Harry's first _official _Christmas, which Lily wanted to be just perfect because it would be the first one they would spend together as a family, without the constant threat to their lives hanging over them.

And then there was studying to be done for her upcoming Healer training in March—which Lily had put off when Dumbledore had asked her to join the Order—because she refused to become a stay-at-home-mum. And it wasn't for the money because they had enough so that neither she nor James had to work—_ever_—or that she hated her job as a mother, because she loved it, more than anything. It was just that she didn't want to become one of _those_ wives who depended on their husband's for everything.

And it would just be part-time, anyway, until Harry was old enough to go to Hogwarts and it wasn't like St Mungo's didn't have a day nursery were all the mums dropped off their kids, so there was nothing to worry about, really.

It shouldn't have surprised anyone then, what with all the stress and worrying Lily had been doing for the past month, when she had promptly fallen to the ground during a Sunday gathering.

* * *

"**H**ow is she?" Lily heard James' voice cutting through the swirling haze she was waking up from.

"She's doing, fine, Mr Potter," she heard a female voice say. She was coming to slowly, and she could faintly administer the beginnings of a terrible headache, that was becoming more and more pronounced.

The last thing she remembered was getting a cranky Harry, who demanded to be fed, from his godfather's arms. After that, everything was just—_dark_. She couldn't, for the life of her, remember what had happened, or why she was laying on the chaise longue in James' study, judging by the velvety material under her hands.

She opened her eyes slowly, barely making out two dark figures standing in front of her, when her eyes were forced shut by the dizzy wave that hit her. She waited for the infernal spinning to stop, before forcing her eyes open again.

"James?" she called out groggily.

James spun around at the sound of her voice, the ends of his dark hair sticking out at odd angles as he knelt beside her, smoothing her hair out of her face.

"How are you feeling, darling?" he asked softly.

"Like crap, honestly," she answered meekly and James let out a small laugh. "What happened?"

"You fainted," the woman's voice spoke calmly and Lily turned to find a squat witch scribbling something onto a small notepad; judging by the lime green robes and medical bag by her feet, she was a Healer. "But you're all fine now, dear, nothing to worry about."

"I fainted," Lily repeated to herself, furrowing her brow. "Why?"

"It was most likely brought on by stress, which your husband tells me you've had a lot of lately." The squat witch paused, looking at her sternly. "And I'm going to have to ask you to get some rest and stay away from whatever is causing you that stress because, in your condition, stress is never a good thing," she said, before returning to her writing.

James made a small noise beside her and Lily sat up hastily, all dizziness forgotten.

"My-my-what?" she stammered her eyes wide in disbelief as she frantically tried to process what she thought the Healer was saying.

The squat witch looked up from her writing, a frown on her face. "Your condition," she repeated slowly, as if it should be obvious enough what she was saying. "You're thirteen weeks pregnant."

"Are you sure?" Lily asked, not really trusting herself to believe what the Healer was saying; beside her, she could see James sinking heavily to the ground.

"Of course I am," the Healer responded, looking highly affronted.

Lily felt her face drown of any colour as she fell back on her seat, because, really, how could she be pregnant?

After that it was just a haze of instructions that she only paid half attention to, followed by a chorus of 'Congratulations' from her friends after a still-surprised James told them the happy news. And it was squealing from Marlene and Alice and congratulatory pats from Remus and Sirius and Frank and wide, excited smiles from Minerva, whom Harry had taken to calling 'Nana' and was undoubtedly marvelling at the idea of having yet another surrogate grandchild.

And James accepted it all, an ever-growing grin plastered on his face, while Lily tried her best to appear excited, when in reality all she could feel was a horrible, sinking feeling at the pit of her stomach because, even though she desperately wanted to feel happy, she couldn't help but think how this was just one more thing she had to worry about.

And she had thought she had gotten away with it, her happy façade, until she noticed James observing her with a frown on his face all through dinner and until the last of her guests had left for the night.

"Alright, tell me what's wrong," James said as the door closed for the last time, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Nothing's wrong," Lily replied airily, busying herself with smoothing down Harry's hair, who was sleeping peacefully in her arms, just so that she wouldn't have to meet James' gaze.

"Nothing's wrong," James repeated, the disbelief evident in his voice. "Are you sure? Because you haven't been yourself ever since the Healer left."

"I'm just tired, James, that's all," Lily responded wearily.

She could feel James' gaze on her, but she refused to look up, because, really, how can you tell your husband that you are having second thoughts about your pregnancy? She heard him let out a tired sigh and then he was knelt beside her, placing a curl behind her ear.

"You know you can talk to me about anything, right, love?" he asked gently.

"Yes, I know that James," she said softly, offering him a small smile.

James returned her smile, placing a gentle kiss against her temple as she took Harry from her arms and she watched as the two men she loved the most in this world made their way up the stairs. She placed her hands onto her still-flat stomach, hoping with all her heart that she could love this baby also.

* * *

**T**he weeks passed and November gradually turned into December and Lily allowed herself to believe that James had forgotten entirely about his worries. She had forced herself to act excited and had even allowed James to pamper her, even if it drove her crazy.

Of course, she should have known James would see through her façade.

It was a chilly Tuesday morning, December 8 to be exact, when James had dragged her out of their home, claiming he had asked for the day off. It was their wedding anniversary, after all, and he wanted to spend it with her.

They dropped Harry off with Marlene, who had jumped at the opportunity of proving to herself what a great mother she would be, before James had grabbed a hold of her hand and had Apparated them into the Apparition spot in the Leaky Cauldron.

He said nothing as he guided her through the streets of Muggle London and Lily wondered if he even knew where he was going.

"Where are you taking me, James?" Lily asked as he took another sharp turn.

"You'll see," he said evasively.

They continued walking for another ten minutes or so, finally coming at a stop in front of a large, brick building with a sign over it that read: Women's Clinic Centre.

"James, what are we doing here?" Lily asked in bewilderment, turning to look at her husband.

James sighed, taking her hands in his. "I'm not oblivious, Lil, I know something's been bothering you." Lily opened her mouth to speak, to assure him that nothing was wrong, but James placed a finger on her lips, silencing her.

"And I think I know why: you're scared, of this pregnancy, of loving that child and then not being able to protect them, because you were almost not able to protect your son." She lowered her eyes and James placed a hand gently under her chin, bringing her gaze back up.

"I know you are; _I_ get scared too, sometimes, thinking about it. But it's okay to be scared; it makes us human, y'know?"

Lily sighed, turning to look at the building beside them. "But what are we doing here?" she asked softly.

"We're here to show you that there is nothing to be afraid of," he said simply, before taking her hand in his and guiding her into the building.

And it was another half-hour of waiting for her name to be called, while James sat beside her, looking in awe at the television across from them, before her name was finally called. And then there were examinations to be done by Nurses and questions to be answered until, at long last, the doctor arrived.

"Good morning, Mr and Mrs Potter," the young female doctor greeted warmly, consulting something in the clipboard she was holding. "I'm Dr McKenna. This is your first ultrasound, correct?"

"Yes," Lily replied, trying to stop James with her eyes as he curiously examined every inch of the exam room.

Dr McKenna smiled. "Well, you're in for a treat."

James came to stand next to her as the doctor spread a cool gel onto her abdomen.

"What is that for?" he asked curiously.

"This will allow us to hear your child's heartbeat," Dr McKenna explained with a smile as she turned on the large machine beside them, with the flip of a switch.

James stared intently unto the small screen and Lily couldn't help but steal glances at it, in spite of herself.

"Now, let's see," Dr McKenna whispered to herself, moving the wand across Lily's abdomen. She shut her eyes tight, letting her head fall back against the seat she was laying on. "Mhm…there it is!" the doctor exclaimed happily.

She could hear James let out an excited chuckle beside her, giving her hand a gentle squeeze and Lily willed her eyes to open, giving the tiniest of peeks to the monitor and she could swear her heart stopped at the sight that greeted her.

"Oh my god," she whispered almost in disbelief, because there it was for her to see, her unborn child that was growing inside of her. "Oh my god," she whispered again, letting out a small laugh as she took it all in: those were his arms and his hands and those were his feet and was that the sound of his heartbeat she was hearing?

And she couldn't believe it, that she had ever doubted her pregnancy, because how could she _not_ love that little person inside of her? And it was as if time itself had stopped as Lily reached out a hand to the screen and she could feel her eyes swelling with tears, happy tears, because that was _her_ child and she would protect them, whatever it cost her.

"See, love?" James whispered to her, placing a tender kiss on top of her head. "Nothing to worry about."

* * *

**A/N: **_So, how'd I do with it? Did I completely disappoint you guys? Anywho, I kinda need help with a name for baby Potter. I was thinking about making her a girl and I already got some ideas for the name, mainly flower names. I'm stuck between Rosalie, Iris, and Violetta. I was also thinking about Leilani or Zahara. Which one do you guys like better? Or do you have better suggestions? I'd really love to hear them!_


	7. Learning To Cope

**A/N: **_Thanks to everyone who reviewed/favorited/followed the story so far! And a big thank you to everyone for their suggestions! I really do appreciate them and I take them into account. Siriusly. So don't hesitate in sending me any suggestions, if you have any. _

_This is like a sort of continuation from last Chapter, I guess. I was going to go ahead and post it last time, but I thought it killed the flow of the chapter, so I cut it in half. I don't mean to drag all this PTSD, but it _is _a war and I'm trying to be as realistic as possible. But I think I'm going to cut back on it a bit and stop giving it so much focus because I made myself cry while writing this._

**Disclaimer:** _I don't own Harry Potter, or Danger Mouse, which I make a reference of somewhere in the chapter, for those of you who catch it. _

* * *

**Chapter 5**: Learning to Cope

"**A**re you sure this is all necessary?" James huffed under the weight he was carrying.

Lily smiled as she turned to look at him, momentarily extracting herself from her task.

"Yes, I want everything to be perfect for Harry's first Christmas. And the decorations are important."

James rolled his eyes as he set the box by her feet. "He's only one, love. He won't remember much."

"But I will," Lily responded matter-of-factly, looking through the box James had brought her. Nope, nothing there except a few photographs that seemed to be of him when he was smaller; she would definitely have to look through them later. Not that she wanted to tease him with them or anything. "Be a dear and pass me that box, will you?" she asked sweetly.

James sighed, muttering under his breath something about 'House-elves' and 'bossy wives'. They were in the attic, sorting through the dozens of boxes that still needed unpacking—and would continue that way, until James got it through his fathead that she wasn't invalid, just pregnant—for the Christmas decorations she had brought from her parents' house and others that belonged to the late Potters and which were proving to be rather interesting.

She smiled, her eyes lingering over a picture of a baby James playing with what appeared to be a toy dragon. She looked up, to find her own son laughing gleefully as he played with the assortment of James' old toys; it astounded her, how much Harry looked like his father, when he had been James' age.

She sighed dreamily, wondering who this new baby would take after as she reached for the box James had set on top of an old trunk. She frowned as she examined it; it was bounded, messily she noted, all over with Spellotape.

She moved to tear the Spellotape away, before James' voice stopped her.

"Wait!"

She turned to look at him, arching her eyebrow. "What?"

"Don't open that one!"

She only smirked at him as she returned her attention to the box. "Why? Is this where you kept your PlayWizard magazines?" she asked teasingly as she tore open the box. James sighed and she could feel her smirk fall as the box fell open.

And she felt like Pandora, opening the box, everything she had desperately been trying to escape hitting her at full force. Because there, staring at her from out of the box where the smiling faces of Peter and Dorcas and Mary.

She recognised the photograph, remembered the exact day it had been taken. It was in their seventh-year, during James' first Quidditch match. She spotted herself, between Dorcas and Mary, their faces painted red and gold in support of Sirius and James and Marlene, who were all playing for Gryffindor—even if Mary was a Ravenclaw—and the yellow and black scarf for Alice, who was the Hufflepuff Seeker.

And she felt her eyes sting as she shifted through the rest of the photographs, both Muggle and wizard, because she just couldn't stop herself, even if it hurt.

There was one of Emmeline and Dorcas, during their third-year, sticking out their tongues at whoever was behind the camera-Lily vaguely remembered it had been her-and one of Lily and Remus, their prefect's badge glistening in the morning sun. Peter looked glumly up at her from one, lying miserably in the infirmary bed, from a prank gone wrong, she remembered, while he grinned widely from another one, Remus and James and Sirius standing next to him.

And there was one of her and Mary, who seemed to have taken a liking to her during their third year, when Lily had told off the boys that had been teasing her. She moved on to another one of Sirius and James, laying lazily on the floor of the Gryffindor common room as Remus and Peter crept up on them, a box of Zonko's Best Itching Powder in the latter's hand, before looking down at one of Marlene and her in their seventh year, twirling around in the rain and laughing, while a confused James and Sirius looked on at them.

She couldn't help the sob that escaped her, because there it was again, the guilt of somehow having survived as her eyes came to rest on a particular picture, because they were all there, James and Lily and Sirius and Marlene and Dorcas and Remus and Peter and Mary and Alice and Emmeline, grinning widely. They were all in their graduation robes, the Black Lake gleaming peacefully behind them and they all looked so innocent and happy, with a world of possibilities waiting for them, long before the war had torn them apart.

Her eyes watered as someone pulled her into a warm embrace and she took in the familiar scent of James' cologne and grass and wood and the faintest traces of mint toothpaste.

"It'll be okay," he whispered into her ear as she looked down at the photograph in her hand.

But how could it be okay, when they were dead?

She had tried, she really had, to be positive and continue on with her life because she now had three reasons to live. And she had thought she had gotten better at it, at dealing with her guilt about somehow having survived the war, after that impromptu visit to the clinic. But she hadn't apparently, because it was back, at full force now, the guilt, that bloody guilt that was eating at her because how could anything ever be okay again when so many people had died?

"I-is that what this is all about?" James asked softly and Lily looked up at him, not realising she had said the words out loud. "That you feel guilty?"

And how could she pretend it wasn't what it seemed, when he'd know she was lying?

She nodded slowly and James sighed, pulling her tighter against his chest while she wept. They stayed like that for a while, James rubbing soothing circles across her back as her sobs lessened, whispering words of comfort, until the only sound was that of Harry gurgling happily, completely oblivious to it all.

James sighed, pulling away from her slightly, so that he could see her. He placed a hand under her chin, gently lifting it and she looked up at him, his hazel-eyes twinkling behind his round glasses.

"It wasn't your fault," he said firmly. "None of it was. Not the war, not Voldemort, not anybody's death."

She started to protest, because it was her fault, at least Peter's death and Dorcas' too, because they had died trying to protect her, but James silenced her, placing a finger to her lips.

"No, listen to me. It wasn't your fault. Voldemort could have been after anyone; if it wasn't us, it could have been the Longbottoms or the Browns, who I heard had a little girl last July. And we could have died too, y'know? Just as easily it could have been us they buried. But we didn't. We're still here and that's a gift all in itself. Because we have the chance to live our lives with our son." He smiled softly, placing a hand to her abdomen. "And now we have another one on the way. We're a family now, isn't that what you've always wanted?"

He looked back at her then, hazel meeting green as he wiped a stray tear away and she looked at him, desperately searching him because he seemed to hold all the answers and she wanted to know that they would be fine, that everything would be okay.

She found it, the spark of hope and promises for the future lingering in his eyes and she took it greedily as she allowed him to lead her back into his arms, because he could hope for both of them while she remembered how to do it all again.

An eternity seemed to have passed before she felt the absence of those secure arms around her and looked up to see James looking down at the photograph she had been holding moments before. She looked curiously as he extracted his wand and tapped it once, placing the photograph in a beautifully carved frame.

"What are you doing?" she asked softly, dabbing carefully at her eyes with the hem of her sweater.

James looked up, giving her a small smile. "We just can't forget about the people who gave up so much, can we?"

And it made sense, really, not to place them back in the box, as if they were a past they were desperately trying to forget when it was thanks to them that they had a future, Lily thought to herself as James placed the last picture onto their Christmas tree. Because, as James explained, Christmas was a day of giving and it only seemed fair to honour the people who had given so much on this day.

* * *

**I**t was nice to be out of the house on days like this, Lily marvelled to herself, as she passed by a shop full of white dresses. It was cold outside, the kind that bites your cheeks until they redden but is somehow pleasant all the same, and it was snowing lightly, covering the streets of Muggle London in a fragile blanket of whites as happy families bustled from store to store, contributing to the holiday cheer that seemed to fill the air.

All around it reminded her of Christmas, of how it had been before her parents had died, before the war had taken so much away from her. She had been reluctant to come, but James had convinced her, because she really needed a distraction to keep her mind off things.

"How about that one?" she asked, turning to look at Marlene.

They were out shopping like they had done so many times before, when they had been young and untroubled and innocent, untainted from the horrors of the war.

Only this time, they were shopping for wedding dresses. And it was turning out to be more difficult than Lily had first thought.

"Maybe." Marlene frowned, examining the dress with critical eyes. "You know, I'm not really feeling it."

"Marlene, your wedding is in _two_ weeks," Lily reminded her, rolling her eyes in exasperation. "You need a dress."

"Yeah, well maybe I don't want a dress," Marlene replied haughtily, playing with the ends of her hair.

"Marlene, we've been over this," Alice said, sounding as frustrated as Lily felt. "You _need_ to wear a dress on your wedding day."

"Exactly. It's _my_ wedding day. And I say no dress."

"Why must you be so complicated?" Lily asked in exasperation, rubbing her temple.

"Please, Marlene, can you at least just try it on?" Alice asked, trying to keep her temper under control.

"No," Marlene replied stubbornly, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Why the hell not?"

"Because I don't want to," the black-haired beauty responded through gritted teeth.

"Just try it on," Alice repeated sternly.

"No."

"Just do it," Lily bit out through clenched teeth; it was getting frustrating, the speed at which the wedding day was approaching and Marlene's stubbornness and the fact that this was the fifth store they passed by and Marlene still refused to try on a dress.

"I said no!"

"Why not?"

"Because I don't know if I want to get married anymore!" Marlene blurted out. Her face turned an alarming shade of red as she turned away from them, obviously furious with herself at her sudden outburst.

Lily said nothing, just stood there in a stunned silence as she regarded her friend and much to her surprise, and Marlene's too, Alice let out a small laugh.

"Is that all? Marlene, every woman goes through that the closer her wedding day. I know I did. Didn't you?" she asked, turning to look at Lily.

Lily hesitated. "I might have."

"You might have?" Alice asked, arching an eyebrow. "Lily, you kept changing your mind every five seconds."

"I did not. It was only once. Or twice. Maybe three times."

Alice smirked, rolling her eyes as she turned back to Marlene. "The point is, we all have those doubts. It's only natural."

"It's not that. It's just that—" Marlene sighed, turning to look at them. She looked on the verge of saying something, before sighing again as she turned away from them again. "Never mind," she muttered to herself.

"Oh, no," Lily said, walking around until she was standing right in front of her best friend. "Now you're going to tell us."

Marlene bit her lip as blue meet green and Lily could tell she was hesitating.

"But can we do it somewhere warm?" Alice asked, pointing to the Muggle café across the street from them. "It's getting kind of cold here."

Lily nodded her agreement and the three friends made their journey across the street, into the small café, where they ordered three cups of hot chocolate. They all sat in silence for a few moments, taking the time to warm up from the biting cold, before Lily spoke again.

"Alright. Spill it."

Marlene let out a small sigh, her hands curling around her cup. "It's stupid, really."

"We won't judge," Alice said with a small shrug.

"It's just that," she hesitated, playing with a strand of her hair like she always did when she was nervous or frustrated.

Lily leaned forward in her seat, placing a hand on Marlene's arm.

"You know you can tell us anything, Marley," she said with a small smile, which Marlene returned, although hers held a hint of her overwhelming sadness.

"I can't stop thinking about Emma," she said softly.

"Oh, Marley," Alice whispered, placing a hand to her lips. Lily felt her heart ache at the mention of six-year old Emma, Marlene's bubbly niece, who had been murdered by Voldemort.

Marlene sighed tiredly, her blue eyes twinkling with unshed tears. "It's just not fair, you know? How she'll never get to do any of this: get married and have children and just grow old. And _I _will." She paused, taking a deep breath as she stared off into the distance.

"She used to talk about it all the time. Growing up to be like _me_ and marrying her prince charming. And now she's gone and she won't be able to do any of it and it's just not fair, that I'm alive and she's not," she said, closing her eyes as a few tears slid down her pale cheeks and she wiped them angrily away.

"And I might not have been the one who cast the spell that killed her, but I might as well have and what kind of aunt am I, when I couldn't even protect my own niece?" she said as more tears escaped, only this time she allowed them to follow their course. Lily placed her chair closer to her friend's, so that she was able to place a comforting arm around her.

And she didn't know what to say, to make her best friend feel better, only that she knew exactly how she was feeling.

"I didn't want this baby at first," she admitted softly.

"W-what?" Marlene hiccupped, turning to look at her.

"I didn't want this baby," Lily repeated, heaving a great weary sigh. "I know it's a horrible thing for a mother to say, but it's true."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because, Marlene, I know exactly how you feel. I didn't want it, not because I was scared like James thinks, but because I feel like it's more than I deserve, like if I'm pushing my luck, because Peter is dead and so is Dorcas and Mary and—" Lily paused, swallowing the knot forming in the back of her throat. "And _I'm_ alive when I should be the one who is dead, because Voldemort was after _me."_

"Oh, Lily," Alice whispered. "You know that's not true. He was after all of us."

"I know," Lily said with a small shrug. "It's just how I feel sometimes. Because it doesn't feel fair, that they're dead and they'll never have the chance to get married and form their own families. But then James helped me realise that I was given a second chance and I feel like I owe it to them, to honour their sacrifice." She stopped, turning to look at Marlene. "_We _owe it to them, to live our lives and be happy because, otherwise, they'd have died in vain."

"Lily is right, Marlene," Alice said softly. "We have to continue on with our lives, because that's what they would have wanted."

"But why must it be so hard, to move on and learn how to live without them?"

"I don't know," Lily sighed. "But nobody said it was going to be easy. We just have to try."

They stayed silent for a moment, observing the people passing by their window doing their shopping, completely oblivious to it all.

She envied _that_ about Muggles, their ignorance and carefree attitudes as if they were invincible and would live forever, because it felt as if she were constantly living on edge now, just waiting for the next attack. It was a consequence of the war, she knew, one that she could definitely live without because, how can you live life in constant fear of being killed?

"Do you think we'll ever be _that_ carefree and happy again?" Marlene asked, resting her head against Lily's shoulder as they observed a happy couple strolling through the streets. They seemed happy in the world of only two and everyone else was forgotten, because it was just them who existed and nobody else mattered.

"Maybe one day," Alice responded wearily. "When many years have passed and the war is only a distant memory and we finally remember how to live without fear. Maybe then, we'll know how to be happy and carefree again."

* * *

**I**t was half-past four by the time Marlene had finally Apparated into the small flat she shared with Sirius, the dress she had finally decided on safely in Lily's house because, apparently, it was bad luck if the groom saw it before the wedding. She suspected it was just one of those foolish superstitions Muggles had.

The sitting room was empty, as was the kitchen and Marlene wondered where Sirius could be and whether he was home already. It wouldn't surprise her if he was still in the office doing paperwork; he seemed to be there a lot lately.

Luckily, she found him in the spare room he used as a den, where he kept the Muggle device used for viewing moving pictures, which she refused to allow in the sitting room, because it was just a waste of space anyway.

It astounded her how Muggles could spend _hours_ in front of it, almost to the point of being transfixed by it, as they watched unrealistic—what were they called? TV shows?—that were nothing like real life. Because nothing was ever as rosy and uncomplicated as Muggles seemed to like to fool themselves into thinking. If they were, Emma wouldn't be dead, her parents would still be alive and Voldemort would have _never_ happened.

She stood in the doorway of the room, leaning against it as she peered in. Everything in the room seemed to scream Sirius, from the large, brown leather couch, to the red and gold rug to the large glass coffee table, whose stand was a motorcycle engine and was a classic, or at least, that was what he claimed, although she wouldn't quite say she believed him.

Everything was mismatched and nothing made sense, but it all seemed to work perfectly; oddly it reminded her of their relationship, because man-whore Sirius Black falling for harder-to-get-into-than-the-Auror-department Marlene McKinnon? Now that was an odd combination that not many had ever thought would last.

Yet, here they were, three-years later, still going strong against all odds. Or at least, they had been.

As if sensing her gaze, he turned, giving her that smile that always made her heart melt.

"Hey," she said awkwardly, playing with her hands

"Hey." He held out his hand for her to take, pulling her gently in his direction. "How was your day?"

"Long." She paused, taking a seat next to him. "And boring. I'm dead tired."

Sirius looked sideways at her, giving her his trademark smirk. "I bet. Lily drive you crazy?"

"Crazy doesn't even begin to explain it," she snorted, crossing her arms over her chest. "She had us running up and down Muggle London, looking for a dress. And when _that _didn't work out, she dragged us to Twilfitt and Tatting's. _Twilfitt and Tatting's_! Of all places! I swear, I thought I was going to go mad, with all the squeezing into tight, itchy dresses and spinning and squealing…" She huffed, shaking her head. "Remind me again, why did I make her my maid of honour?"

Sirius just chuckled, kissing her temple as he slid an arm around her shoulders. They sat in silence for a moment, Sirius' attention on the show he was watching, something about a white mouse with superpowers, it seemed—seriously, the things Muggles came up with, Marlene thought to herself—before losing her train of thought in more important, serious matters.

She wanted nothing more than to sink into his embrace and sleep, because this pregnancy, toppled with the sob session she had had earlier-they were just the hormones, she reminded herself, which had caused her to soften because Marlene McKinnon would have never been caught dead crying before _and_ in broad daylight, for Merlin's sake-seemed to have taken its toll on her.

But Lily's words, that had been whispered to her as she embraced her before Apparating home, rang clearly in her mind and she knew she was right: she had to talk to Sirius.

And it wasn't just because she was having her doubts, which Lily thought Sirius should now about, but because she suspected he was also, by how distant he had been acting lately and the awkwardness that would sometimes ring between them when the subject of their wedding came up.

"So, did you find it?" Sirius asked suddenly, snapping her out of thoughts.

"Find what?" she asked absentmindedly, turning to look at him.

"The dress." Sirius paused, brushing a strand of hair out of her face "Did you find it?"

"Oh, yeah, it's at Lily's," she said offhandedly, examining his features. Her eyes trailed down his body, from his regal nose and pronounced cheekbones that he hated, because they reminded him of his now-deceased cousin, to the jagged scar in his exposed chest, where his mother's curse had hit him when he expressed his fascination with Muggles at the age of seven, as if that could have beat the 'queerness' out of him.

He simply nodded, turning his attention back to his show. Marlene opened and closed her mouth a few times, not really sure how to go about discussing the subject that was eating at her and she couldn't help but feel a surge of overwhelming dread because what if Sirius didn't want to marry her anymore?

And, somehow, that thought made her eyes sting and she swallowed hard, trying to get rid of the knot forming at the back of her throat as she blinked furiously, determined not to let herself cry. But her efforts were proving to be futile because the torrent of tears were pouring down her cheeks before she could stop them and she must look ridiculous, she knew, crying for no apparent reason—stupid, _stupid_ hormones.

"Hey now," Sirius said, sounding surprised and concerned as he slipped his arms around her, which only caused her sobs to increase. "What's—Marl, what's wrong?" he asked softly, as the familiar scent of his musky aftershave and leather and cigarette smoke mixed with faint traces of Butterbeer and something else, which she could only describe as being so _Sirius_, invaded her senses. And she lost herself in them, because they had always meant warmth and love and safety.

And it all came out in a flurry, the overwhelming grief over her family's, especially Emma's, death and the guilt that seemed to never leave her and the constant dread that she wasn't the woman he deserved and she hadn't known she felt that way, but it had come out before she could stop it.

Sirius sat through it all in a stunned silence, not moving and not really saying anything, just holding her in his arms as she wept.

"A-and I just feel you so distant now, Sirius," she said in between sobs, "and I don't know if it's because you're still trying to process everything that's happened to us or if you've realised you don't love me anymore."

And that was it, wasn't it, what had been eating at her the most? The dread of finding out that Sirius had realised that he didn't want this—didn't want them—that he wanted to go back to his old ways, when there had been no expectations and no commitments.

She pulled herself away from him, looking earnestly at him, wanting to see his reaction, and fearing it all the same, when she asked him the question that could undoubtedly break them.

And she dreaded it, hearing that answer, because she didn't think she could do it without him by her side if he didn't and she knew it was pathetic and it wasn't _feminist_ enough she could almost hear Dorcas hissing at her, but it was just how it was. Call it love or whatever.

"I-is that it? T-that y-you don't love m-me anymore?"

Sirius sighed heavily, breaking their gaze as he put his head in his hands. "It's not that, Marlene. Merlin, it's not you. Fuck," he muttered under his breath, passing a hand through his hair, before looking up meet her eyes.

Marlene held her breath, her body tensing, because he was going to say it, he was going to give her that ruddy 'it's not you it's me' speech and that he just felt obligated to stay by her side, because of the baby and how could she have been so stupid to think she could actually have her happy ending? Life wasn't like that; hadn't the war taught her anything?

"Merlin," he sighed, as if he were having trouble forming the words and why couldn't he just go and say it? "I love you. I really do. It's not you, trust me. This is about me, about _my_ own insecurities. About not being good enough for _you_ or the baby, about not being able to protect you, when I couldn't even protect my _own_ brother."

All Marlene could do was stare because out of all the things she had expected to hear him say, this was not one of them. And she wanted to reach out to him, to comfort him, but she didn't because she knew Sirius and she knew it was taking a lot from him to admit this to her because Sirius rarely opened up to anyone, even her—although they had made some progress over the years—and she knew he needed his space. So it astounded her when he reached out to her, taking his hands in hers.

He drew circles around her hands with his thumbs soothingly, as if _she_ were the one who needed soothing now, when Merlin knew what Sirius had been going through.

"Every time I close my eyes, I see him, l-looking at me, before the spell hit him. And I'm reminded how I was too late to save him, even though I tried, I really did. And I asked him, I pleaded with him not to go, to wait until I had them all, but he didn't listen. He kept saying how it was the only way to cleanse his soul, but he didn't stop to think, did he? Didn't stop to think what it would do to me, to see my own brother die before my eyes and know that I was too late."

Sirius paused, taking a deep breath as he squeezed his eyes shut and Marlene reached out tentatively to wipe a tear away. He leaned into her touch, his eyes flinging open and Marlene cursed herself, because how could she have missed it? How could she have missed that haunted look lurking behind his grey eyes, when she had seen it dozens of times in her own reflection?

"And now, I'm expected to get married and have children, and I swear it's not you, but I can't help but think how Regulus will never have that opportunity. How he'll never be able to get married and have children, because he's dead and I couldn't save him and I'm just scared that I'll screw this, screw us up, too, when I've already screwed up so much in my life."

He leaned over then, his wrenching sobs filling the air and Marlene felt a pang of sadness pierce through her heart because it was hard to see the man you love so broken. She reached out to him, pulling him into an embrace as she tried her best to soothe him.

"It'll be okay; we'll be okay," she repeated like a mantra for his benefit as well as hers.

Because she needed to believe that they'd pull through this, like the had pulled through everything else: from the shouting matches in sixth-year, when Marlene had decided she was tired of waiting around for Sirius to realise she existed and had started dating, which had somehow infuriated him greatly, even though he had a new girlfriend every other day, it seemed; to the on-and-off relationship they had during seventh-year, which everyone swore would never amount to anything serious; to their major break-up after she had found him snogging a busty blond outside a Muggle bar, which had lasted three months and Marlene swore was for good, until Sirius had shown up on her doorstep one rainy Friday night, wet and reeking of firewhisky and rambling on something about Zeus and two faces and extra limbs and soul mates and how he had found his in her, which hadn't made much sense to her, but could possibly be the most romantic thing Sirius had ever said to her.

And that had only been the relationship side of it, because there was still the bloody war, her family's death, Dorcas' murder, his brother's involvement with Voldemort's crew, which had all certainly done its damage. There were times when Marlene could have sworn they wouldn't make it out of this war intact, but they had, mostly.

Because they weren't completely unscathed. They were broken, she could see that now, and she hated the war, for breaking them like this, hated Voldemort for causing them so much pain and, why not? She hated the world, for being so unfair, for having killed so many innocent people when there were others out there, causing so much pain.

And she wondered when it would all end, because the war was over and Voldemort was dead, but why did it feel like he still had control over their lives?

Somehow she found herself in his lap—she didn't know if it had been her doing, or if it had been Sirius', but there she was, her ear pressed against his chest, taking in the soothing beatings of his heart, his strong arms securely wrapped around her, keeping her close to him.

His body radiated all the warmth and safety and comfort she desperately needed and she might be exactly what _he_ needed, because he gradually relaxed and his sobs lessened, until the only sound was that of cheery music that seemed so out of place and their own breathing.

"We'll be okay, won't we?" she asked softly, pulling herself away from him, so that she could see his face. Because as much as she told herself it would be, she still needed to hear it from him, needed to know that they would make it through this, together.

Sirius looked down at her, his eyes red and puffy, as he reached up to play with a strand of her hair.

"Yeah, we will." He paused, pressing a kiss to her lips. "As long as we have each other, we'll be okay."

* * *

**A/N: **_This is for my Guest reviewer: I am definitely going to explore the wizarding world in this story. There's a whole world of possibilities out there and I think I'd get bored really quick if I just stuck to Harry going to Hogwarts. That has been overdone way too many times. I mean, I'll do it, just to show how different it is from the actual story, but I'm thinking more of having him travel the world with his parents-after all, they have the money for it-and meeting different cultures and seeing all the different magical animals and I'm getting excited just thinking about it. So you've got nothing to worry about; I'm keeping it original :)_


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